Abandon All Defenses
by Ceci Webster
Summary: Begins near the end of the 2004 movie. A young lonely heiress falls victim to the wrath of Erik. Can he save her life and his own in the process? EOC
1. Chapter 1: A Lonely Heart

It was a snowy night when she was walking to the opera house. Her carriage had broken down on her way into town. Desperately needing to make it to the opera that night, she paid her coachman ten francs and ran furiously into the heart of Paris.

"I cannot believe this," she cursed, "all I wanted was to see this damn opera! What a fool I am making of myself. This is so uncivilized. So….unladylike!"

Finally reaching the gilded steps of the grand Opera Populaire, she stopped to catch her breath. After a few moments, she adjusted her cape, pressed her hair into place, wiped the tears from her freezing eyes, puckered her lips, and began her ascent up toward the grand doors. She could hear the muffled sounds of talking and the tuning of instruments. _Wonderful! It has not yet began!_ Hardly being able to control her excitement, she walked through the galient doors and smiled daintily at the usher.

"Bonne Nuit Madamoiselle," he exclaimed recognizing her the moment she lifted her bold blue eyes to his face, "your box is this way." She regally nodded to him as he removed her black velvet cape and accepted his bent arm in order to escort her to her box. It did not feel the same since her father had died. _Oh daddy…how I wish you were here with me right now. _

As she neared the staircase, a familiar man hurriedly came towards her. _Why did he have to be here tonight! I am sure he brought his precious Suzette with him._

" Merci, Monsier. I can walk alone from here." she said halting to a stop and allowing the usher to kiss her dainty white gloved hand.

"Enjoy the show, Mademoiselle." he said as he stood back upright and galiently walked down the staircase.

"Cecilia!" the hurried gentleman yelled running up to her and halting short of breath, "I just wanted to tell you that I am so sorry about Charles. He was a good and decent man. _Unlike you Fredrick_. She thought to herself. Are you alright? If there is anything I can do for you, please do not hesitate to call upon my home. My mother rather misses seeing your sweet face."

"Merci Fredrick for your sympathies..." she mournfully replied "I am quite alright. Please do give my best to Danielle and also to your beloved Suzette." He winced at the sound of Suzette's name rolling off of her tongue. "Bonne Nuit," she ended courteously as she began to enter her box.

The tears began to flow the moment she heard the red velvet curtain close. She was proud of herself for maintaining such composure in Fredrick's presence. Her father's memory and the sight of him in one night was almost too much for her to handle. She put her hand on her mouth to cover the low sobs she could not contain within. _Mon Dieu, Cecilia. It has been over a year and still you cannot get over him! Come to your senses._

Her conscience was right. She had to forget about him. At least until the opera was over. She slowly began to reach composure again. Her flushed cheeks and red eyes began to sooth, and she adjusted her back to her usual ladylike posture once again. Her blue eyes were suddenly drawn to the stage. Oh how marvelous it looked decorated in deep fabrics of crimson and ebony. The entire room began to warm with the lighting of the stage lanterns properly setting the warm yet sinister mood of the Opera Populaire's newest opera _Don Juan Triumphant_.

Upon seeing Carlotta's presence on the stage, she frown in utter dismay. _I thought they finally sacked her. After the embarrassment she was during the last opera, one would assume that she would never be able to sing in Paris again! _Yet still, she was determined to enjoy this opera. This was her first opera completely alone. Opera, the one thing she had left in her life worth holding onto.

_Finally, she thought. Diva Christine Daae is back. This might be worthwhile afterall._

_Odd. Who is this man walking onto the stage? Certainly it isn't the famous tenor M. Piangi! _She questioned flipping curiously through her program._ Nonetheless, he certainly is dashing. _

She watched attentively at the heat that began to generate during the duet. She began to become entranced with this new tenor. His words wrapping around her body calling her towards him. She moved to the edge of her seat in order to get a better look. She was so close to the balcony of her box, one more inch would cause her to fall into the also entranced crowd below. Her eyes were not blinking for hopes to not miss anything.

Suddenly, the diva removed the new tenor's mask. Hearing the crowd shriek in fear, she suddenly stirred from her trance. _What are they screaming at?_ she questioned as she looked down into the crowd below completely missing the terror of the new tenor's face. Suddenly, she looked up again as the enormous chandelier started falling towards her box. She immediately tried to get out of her chair when it hit and broke her balcony sending her plummeting towards the ground of the audience below. During her fall, the balcony itself broke apart from the wall and too came crashing down just inches away from her unconscious body.

The whole audience was running for their loves towards the grand doors, while the stage actors were furiously screaming at the night of M. Piangi's strangled corpse. All the while, they tripped and trampled her poor unconscious body. Even the sympathetic Fredrick was too busy ensuring his bride's safety to notice the badly bruised Cecilia laying helplessly on the ground.

As the opera house slowly began to quiet, Cecilia stirred briefly to see the shadows of a young man and an older woman hurrying toward the back of the stage. She could make out a faint whisper "Come with me monsieur" before she again lost consciousness.


	2. Chapter 2: The Saviour

**DISCLAIMER: As you probably know. I do not own any rights to any Phantom of the Opera literature or multimedia.**

Meanwhile, down in the catacombs under the opera house, an enraged and weeping Erik was hidden in the sanctuary of his bedchamber. He looked down at the precious diamond ring he held in his bloody trembling hands. Tears slowly rolled down his face as he attempted to hold back screams that were welling up in his chest. His heart, beating faster than ever before, made him feel as though he may have a heart attack at any moment. However, he did not care. In fact, he prayed that death would rear its ugly head and claim his pathetic existence.

Life without Christine was not worth living. He contemplated whether he should just end it all and use his weapon of choice, his Punjab lasso, on himself. He deserved to be in Hell he thought. _Maybe in Hell, someone will accept my demonic face._ He began searching his room for any lingering rope that may have been left behind. He tore through his drawers and almost turned his bed upside down hoping to find anything that he could end his life with.

Once realizing he has used the remaining supply he had, he stormed out of the room toward his desk near his organ in the sitting room. _There must be something here that will be of use to me. _He opened every drawer so furiously that he allowed them to fall in a shambles upon the floor. As his bloody hands stained the papers be rumbled through, he realized that his weapon might be still on stage from the body of M. Piangi. Maybe those wretched fools removed it prior to removing the body from the opera house. It was worth a trip at least.

He immediately leapt over his pile of rubble and made his way toward his hidden stairwell toward the rear of his abode. The passage he began to tread upon lead him directly to the small crevice beneath the stage. With any luck, he would be able to unlatch the trap door he has used earlier this night in order to be able to climb onto the stage.

The torches began to extinguish as he was making his way down the corridor. Soon, the entire hall would be left in darkness. Not that that mattered to Erik. No darkness could match the darkness of his broken heart. Once he reached the end of the hall, his magnificent green eyes peered upwards. The trap door was still open. With all the power he could muster, he shoved the small stair-step ladder toward the opening and began to climb onto the stage. Finally reaching the top, he pulled the weight of his body onto the desolated, burning stage.

His blood still rushing with adrenaline, he stomped toward the small puddle of blood left where M. Piangi's body once lain. _Served him right. He should have followed my orders and lost some weight. I did warn him that he would die soon._ He let out an evil, sinister chuckle. As he began to search the stage, he looked out into the audience and finally saw the destruction he caused. Guilt began to sink into his mind. _Look what I did to my precious opera house. _

He again began to weep. He had now truly lost everything he has loved. There was no more opera, no more inspiration for music, and more importantly, there was no more Christine.

As he scanned the room taking in all of its horror, he noticed a flash of light blue lying on the mahogany colored carpet. He hurriedly descended the steps of the stage and cautiously walked to the area next to the fallen chandelier.

It was a woman! What was a woman doing left behind in his opera house. He turned her over onto her back from her side, and noticed that she was still breathing. Her thick wavy blond hair was stained with blood which had appeared to have stopped bleeding from her forehead. However, her pretty porcelain face appeared to be spared. Erik stared at her in awe and disbelief that someone would have left her behind. _And they call me the monster. _

True, he may have been a murderer, but he knew that this woman did not deserve to die. _I will not have the death of something so beautiful on my head. _He retraced his prior thought. _What are you talking about? Do not allow yourself to get soft now. Get back to death…it is what you long for. Let someone else come for her. _

_No. She is going to live even if it is the last thing I do._

With that, Erik picked up the unconscious blond woman into his arms and began his more normal descent toward his underground lair.


	3. Chapter 3: Stranger In The Bed Chamber

**DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two**

_You should have just left her there to die. You ARE a murderer you know._

_Those were just accidents. The stagehand slipped. It was not intentional. I only wanted to frighten him. _

_You are still a murderer._

He signed deeply as the bow of his gondola reached his sanctuary lake island. His conscious was right he thought. _I am a murderer._ He peered down at the helpless woman lying in his boat below. She was still unconscious although quite obviously breathing. He had knocked out many a stagehand to realize that she was going to be fine. _I should never have brought her here. What was I thinking? She is going to wake up, take one look at me, and start swimming as fast as she can out of here._

As he stepped onto dry land, he carefully leaned down to grasp her petite voluptuous body. _Well, it is safe to say she is not a ballerina._ He suddenly felt a wave of guilt. He of all people had no place offending such a beautiful woman.

As he approached his spare room, he glanced once around his abode. He noticed the blood stained pages of his precious compositions littering the floor and the piles of broken glass lying beneath the golden mirrors. Rage had certainly reared its ugly head when Christine had left him. _Then again, this woman is injured because of the rage._ Feeling yet more guilt, he opened the heavy mahogany door which led into the bedchamber.

It had been Christine's room. He specially chose each bit of furniture, each speck of cloth, and every single trinket personally to suit her needs. A fine cherrywood canopy bed lay in the middle of the room with silken sheets and decadent pillows. Luxurious tapestries of lovers and flowers hung upon the richly painted walls while extravagant floor rugs lay on the cold stone floor. The room was a vision of deep rich gold and green which perfectly complimented the deep red of the furniture. In the corner of the room a vanity stood. A petite upholstered chair embroidered with dancing angels stood unused and never touched beneath it. Atop lain every necessity a dainty woman would ever need: a silver brush and matching comb, black satin ribbons and hairpins, luxurious lotions and perfumes, and immediately above, mounted on the wall, a large golden-framed mirror.

Erik's heart broke once more at the sight of the room. The two dozen red roses which sat in a vase by her bed let an aroma that made his body begin to shake. _You need to forget about her now. The pretty blond needs you. For the first time in your life, you are needed._

He laid her helpless body on the bed's silken sheets carefully ensuring her head would not be unbalanced or sprained. As he removed her boots, he realized that he may as well make her comfortable because she was most likely going to be here a long time. He slowly and gently began removing the sleeves of her light blue dress and pulled the beautiful garment over her still blood stained head. Next he untied her corset to allow her breathing to become more regular. As he removed the corset, he noticed bad bruising on her arms and sides. Suddenly, he realized what had happened to her. _Mon Dieu, they trampled this poor creature. No one even stopped to politely step over her._

It was then he decided that he should clean her up and check her body for any broken bones. Needless to say, he was sure she would be in a lot of pain when she awoke form her stupor. In an instant, he darted out of the bed chamber and headed towards his supply cabinet near the kitchen. Yanking open the heavy oak doors, he began to read his items.

_Lavender_

_Pain Subsiding Herbs_

_Tea_

_Flour (Hmm… I do not think I have ever used that…)_

_Sterilizing Herbs_

_Basil_

_Spices_

_A box of French truffles_

_3 bottles of French wine_

_Cloths_

He reached and snatched up the necessary items he needed and made his way back to the bed chamber. He set the necessary items on the small bedside table and walked into the adjoining bathroom just beyond the vanity. He dabbed the clean white cloths in the water-filled basin and made his way back to the blond woman in Christine's bed. After cleaning her pretty face and forehead, he examined her arms and legs for any traces of broken bones. Upon feeling her wrist, she stirred and winced with pain. She opened her stunning blue eyes for a moment and drifted back into her unconscious stupor. Realizing that her wrist was not broken, but definitely strained, he wrapped it with the remaining cloth he has brought from the kitchen.

After sterilizing and dressing her wounds, he decided that it was best she be left alone to rest. _I will come back when she awakes. Surely she will want something to ease her pain. _

Meanwhile, Cecilia was having the most wonderful dream. She was back at her father's house in the country surrounded by a grassy meadow of lush green and sweet smelling daisies. She was sitting on a white linen blanket underneath a grand tree.

As her face rose toward the brilliant blue sky, she heard a voice. The voice was calling her name. Her eyes squinted to the shadow running towards her in the distance. His long blond hair was swept from his face as he floated through the meadow. _Fredrick._

"Cecilia! I love you!" he claimed.

"Fredrick! I love you!" she returned.

He finally reached her blanket and plopped his body down next to hers. His gray suit suited his body well. His jacket defined every curve of his chest and every flex of his arms. Her sparkling blue eyes met his bold brown ones. Her face flushed as he leaned into kiss her ever so lovingly. At this moment, she felt as though she was in heaven. It was as though Fredrick never broke her heart. He was there beside her.

"Marry me, Cecilia. Marry me and be mine forever," he pleaded.

As she leaned in to kiss him once again, she abruptly felt a surging pain run up her spine causing her vision to diminish. She awoke in a strange room she had never been before. As she attempted to suppress her breathing, she began to wonder. _Where am I?_


	4. Chapter 4: It's Don Juan?

**DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two**

She tried to lift her body upright. Slowly, she managed to lean against the headboard and position her body so that she was able to balance. She could feel her headache very clearly now. She realized that she almost died. The last thing she could remember was falling from the balcony.

As she peered across the room, she wondered if she was still dreaming. Everything was so beautiful. Although clearly one could tell it was decorated for a woman, the entirety of the room appeared to have masculine qualities. The furniture was thick and strong. The mirrors were grand in stature. _Certainly the man who decorated this room must have put a lot of pride into it. _She became enamored with the quaint cherubs echoed in the paintings and the upholstery. Even the headboard had carvings of these little angels in it.

The room itself was, however, rather cold. Although the fine fabrics and audacious colors seemed to denote a sense of warmth, Cecilia quickly realized that her teeth had begun to chatter. Using her good hand, she pulled the thick satin blanket up to her torso recognizing that she barely had any clothes on!

Stunned and feeling somewhat violated, she eyed the room in search of what was left of her dignity. A woman of her stature could not possibly be this undressed in such a strange place.

She shifted her body weight allowing her legs to dangle from the bedside. She then attempted to apply pressure on her aching legs. All the while, she became aware of faint mournful music playing outside her bedroom door. Its rich, melancholy tone made her want to weep. Her thoughts of Fredrick seemed to flood back. It was as though the instrument was playing from her scarred heart.

_You must lift yourself up now, Cecilia. You need to find your dress. _

As she lifted her swollen body, her knees collapsed under her sending her plummeting to the stone floor.

Erik, upon hearing a rather serious crash coming from Christine's room, immediately halted his playing and rushed into the bedchamber.

Upon opening the door, he heard faint groans from the pretty blond woman coming from the opposite side of the bed. Realizing she must have fallen, he swung past the bureau to see if she was alright.

"Mademoiselle, what are you doing?" he said coldly.

"Monsieur, what does it look like I am doing, taking a bath?" she sternly replied.

"You really must get back into bed. You are in no condition to be walking around."

"I kind of realized this Monsieur once I landed," she said with her face still lying square on the stone floor, "do you think there is anyway I can trouble you to… to help me."

He walked behind her back and lifted her bruised body into his arms. Her face had become swollen now. She almost did not resemble the pretty blond he had brought in just hours ago.

Her body went limp once she looked into his striking green eyes. Her usually talkative mouth suddenly went completely speechless. Even though half of his face was covered with a porcelain white mask, the exposed side seemed to be rather pleasing to the eye. His dark brown hair was in perfect position. Not one hair out of place. From what she could see in the midst of the candlelight, his rather full soft lips seemed rather tempting.

She haughtily wondered what the rest of him looked like. _Cecilia! You naughty girl! You do not even know this man. _What could she say? She did always have impeccable taste in men. Whether or not they were brutes or selfish bastards was another story.

She fought to get herself to look away from those green eyes.

As he lain her on the bed once more, she uttered a groan of pain as her back touched the sheets.

"Are you alright?" he asked, "Are you in a lot of pain?"

She did not want to seem weak to him. That is exactly what a man would want from her. However, she felt like she had been run over by a carriage and barely survived to tell the tale.

"No, no. I am quite alright." she replied grimacing once more.

"No, you aren't. Hold on." he stammered as he reached for the pain subsiding herbs sitting on the bedside table. "Here, drink this," he said as he pressed the little flask up to her pouty swollen lips.

Realizing that she was far too weak to fuss with him, she swallowed her pride and the mysterious potion. _If he was going to kill me, he would have done it by now._

She gazed back into his green eyes and began to have a flashback. _It is Don Juan! The new tenor of the opera is standing in front of me. Why is he still in costume? _

"Merci, Monsiour. May I ask you something?" she asked.

"That depends, Mademoiselle. I must warn you know. I do not take kindly to prodders."

"I assure you I am not prodding, Monsieur. I just wanted to know how I came to be here? I mean, you are the Opera Populaire's new tenor. How is it I came to be with you here?"

_She thinks I am a member of the opera? Interesting. Maybe she has not heard about the infamous Phantom of the Opera. _

He let out a low chuckle. "I assure you, Mademoiselle, I am not the opera's new tenor."

"Please, call me Cecilia. If you are not the tenor, then you are you. I must say you bear a striking resemblance to him. You are even wearing the same costume he wore on stage."

"Well, Cecilia." He paused. "I was the man on the stage, but I regret to inform you that I am not an employee of such establishment. I am your most humble Phantom of the Opera."

It was her turn to laugh. "You must be joking! The Phantom is a ghost, and you are a man. He is said to have the face of death, and I am well aware that you do not possess such a face."

_How could she be so sure I do not have the face of death. Did she not see Christine unmask me on stage last night?_

"Well then, if you do not believe me, I shall leave you to your thoughts," he said, acting quite offended.

As he rose from her bedside, she reached out her good arm and grabbed his wrist.

"No, please Monsieur Phantom, so stay. I promise I will not laugh at you again. You must admit though, it is hard for one to believe that a man such as you could be this horrible monstrosity that the whole of Paris is talking about."

"Mademoiselle, you know nothing of what you speak of."

"Please call me Cecilia, and what do you mean I do not know what I speak of?"

"That is enough talk out of you for tonight," he said with a serious tone, "you must get some rest if you are to even think about getting out of bed. I will go and fetch something to take the swelling down from your formerly pretty face."

_Swelling? Formerly pretty face. What is he talking about?_

"Monsier Phantom, please hand me that silver mirror from the vanity."

"No, Cecilia. You do not want to see your face right now."

"Please hand it to me," she said sternly with an elevated voice.

Knowing that the last thing in the world he wanted to do at the moment was argue with a woman, he reached over to the vanity and collected the petite silver hand mirror. Upon placing it in Cecilia's hands, he saw her pretty blue eyes welling up with tears.

_Look at my face! I am a monster!_

Erik could see the pain in her eyes as she held tightly to the mirror. He saw her trace her broken lips and purple cheek bones with her small trembling hand. Understanding her pain, he snatched the mirror from her hands.

"That is enough excitement for one night. You really must rest."

"How am I supposed to rest when I have no idea where I am, and I am with a man who says he is the Phantom of the Opera? My face is the color of one of my most favorite purple dresses, I can only use one of my hands, and all the while I am freezing in this room!"

"Cecilia…" he calmly replied to her as he lit a fire in the fireplace just beyond her bed, "I assure you, I will not hurt you. You are a guest in my home. Where exactly my home is, is another conversation for another day. Your face, although rather purple as you say, is admittedly one of the most beautiful faces I have ever seen." (He had to lie, what else was he to do?)

He could see her blush through her tears.

"Now, I have a fire going for you, so it is bound to get warmer in here soon. Until then, please get some rest. The last thing I want is having a woman's death on my hands."

"Monsieur, Phantom. Who are you?"

"My name is Erik, and that is all you need to know for now. Bonne Nuit" he said as he walked out her bedroom door shutting it softly behind him.

_What an odd man. _

As the room began to warm, she felt her eyes growing heavier until she dozed off into a deep sleep.


	5. Chapter 5: Those Memories

**DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two**

She woke to infuriating music that morning. It sounded as though someone was jumping up and down on top of the organ. She heard objects crashing onto the floor and heard Erik cursing at the top of his lungs. _What on earth is he doing?_

She figured that now was a better time as ever to brave walking again. She felt much better though. She concluded that the herbal potion must have done better than she had expected it too. As she pulled her covers back, she felt as though she was able to move her body to a more upright position. She looked in front of the bed and noticed a large dressing screen adjacent to a large wooden dress closet.

Finally stabilizing her legs and standing upright, she made her way towards the wooden dress closet. Using the other furniture to keep her balance, she managed to reach the beautiful carved doors of the dress closet. She opened them with as much care as a small child, slightly ravaging them off of their hinges while attempting to keep her balance.

As she peered inside, she noticed no less than twenty dresses hung neatly in a color-coordinated row. At the foot of the floor of the dress closet, he also noticed five pairs of dainty boots and party slippers which perfectly matched the breathtaking frocks.

After scanning them for a bit, she noticed her own blue dress hanging apart from the others. Its sleeve has been torn and it was covered in dirt and wood particles. Cecilia's face dropped when she came to the understanding that her favorite dress, the one her father had given her during her last birthday, was ruined.

Knowing that she could not wear her own dress, she reached for a pretty green one hanging in the closet. After looking over it, she found that there was no way she was going to be able to wear this dress. I was not only way to long for her rather short stature, but also the upper torso area appeared to have little or no fabric enough to cover her own pride. _Whoever wore these garments must have been a ballerina._

Concluding that there was nothing proper for her to wear, she fetched a satin black robe from the hanger and attempted to slip it onto her wounded figure while still trying to keep her balance.

Erik had not slept since Christine's departure. No place felt sanctuary enough to heal his ravaged heart. As much as he tried to put the pain form his mind, the worse it became. In fact, it appeared that the only thing able to fully take his focus and concentration was Cecilia.

Not wishing to wake her and beg her to talk with him, he decided it was wise to purge he thoughts onto a composition. The first few hours went quite well. He droned on making as many mournful and bewailing pieces as possible. It was only when he ran out of parchment, when he came into contact with something that ultimately made his whole world crash down on him once again.

He opened the drawer to his desk and there sat the perfect ring he gave to Christine. Its diamonds sparkled like the tears that began to roll down his unmasked face. He remembered all the plans he had made for their wedding. He had planned to accomplish the most perfect proposal until pretty boy Raoul came in the picture. He was going to take her to the very top of the opera house by Apollo's Lyre. Once he had seen the first snowflake on her face, he would get on one knee and tell her that life without her was no longer worth living. Upon placing the sparking ring on her finger and hearing her simple answer "yes", he would hurry her down to the depths of the catacombs and show her what he had done for her. He would show her the dresses, the decadent room, he would show her everything. He would tell her that anything she wanted would be hers.

The tears were flowing heavily now. The only thing he could think of was her perfect face. He could imagine her large hazel eyes piercing his inner soul, her long thick eyelashes batting with incessant feminine flirtation and seduction, or her pouty pink lips as she spoke the words of his music. He remembered how inventively she would stare at him while he taught her something new. He recollected the stammered breathing that escaped from those lips when he would bring his arms from behind her to show her how to breath from her diaphragm…not her lungs.

Every precious moment spent flashed before his eyes as though death were showing him his last glimpses of life before eternal silence. Space and time seemed to become one. She had been just a girl, just a diminutive child in need of something in her life. She needed him, and that is what precisely got him hooked. Surely, if she was just another chorus girl or ballerina, he would have not subsided to her charms. Even then, before understanding turned into love, he knew that life without her would no longer matter. He savored every sweet commanding moment that he had spent with her. She was his first love. She was his only love.

Erik gasped as he looked up to see the pretty blond staring back at him. Trying to hide his face in order to spare her any further fear and anxiety, he fell back over the drawers that littered the floor.

"Oh, Erik. I am sorry! I did not mean to startle you," she declared as she hobbled towards him.

Upon reaching his obviously aching body, he pushed her helping hand away from him.

"No, don't look. It will only frighten you," he whispered as he began to lift his body from the pile of rubble on the floor.

"Do not be so sure, Erik. I guarantee you that your face, no matter how terrible, could never frighten me."

"Oh…" he began sarcastically, "how is it you think so?"

"Because my father's entire face was deformed."


	6. Chapter 6: The Princess of Composition

**DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two**

"What?" he faltered as he looked into her blue eyes in disbelief. "Who are you Madamoiselle?"

"Cecilia Deveraux"

His jaw dropped the moment she motioned her last name. _This is Charles Deveraux's daughter? The infamous composer Charles Deveraux?_

True, Erik had never been acquainted with M. Deveraux. In fact, not many people had. M. Deveraux preferred a rather reclusive and quiet life. No one quite remembers seeing his face. Those who have seen his face have never spoken of it because of the mere chance to be within his genius presence would have been more captivating than being in the presence of the king.

"You mean as in Charles Deveraux? As in, the greatest French composer that ever lived?"

"Yes, that was my late father's name. As you may have read in the papers, he passed on last week." she mentioned as a single tear fell down her now less purple face.

Erik was well aware of M. Deveraux's death. The mere mention of it made him a bit uneasy as though he was standing in the presence of a ghost. Still stunned, he walked back and sat upon a chaise lounge he had in his sitting area. _That certainly explains her behavior. She is, after all, the princess of French composition!_

"You are standing here, telling me, that the great Charles Deveraux was a deformed man, and that you, of all people in the world, are his offspring?" His hand had lowered from his face at this time. He looked square into her eyes without ay sense of insecurity nor did she seem to notice. In fact, she looked at him as though he appeared as any other man.

"Is that so hard for you to grasp?"

"Actually it is. First of all, I realized M. Deveraux was a recluse, but I never would have guessed it was due to any deformity. Second, if he was indeed deformed, how can one as pretty as you possibly be a child of his?" he questioned in disbelief.

"I needn't get into any arguments with you, Erik. You will just have to take my word for it. If you are so disbelieving, why is it that you have uncovered your face?"

Erik, realizing that his hand had lowered, jumped up and trotted to the organ where his white mask lay. He quickly replaced it on his face, and turned toward Cecilia.

"You really should be resting. Here, let me help you back to your room."

"I will go back on only one condition. You must tell me… where are we?"

Relaxing now that he realized she had moved on from the face incident, he let out a slight chuckle. "Why, my dear, you are in my lair. You are standing no less than two hundred feet beneath the grand Opera Populaire."

Hoping that she would suddenly be afraid by this new information, he grinned with delight.

"Interesting. I always thought there was something under this building," she stated as she began to walk back to the bedchamber. Erik soon followed perplexed by her unexpected statement.

_This is an interesting woman. She is not afraid of me. She is not afraid of my home. She is not afraid of my face. _

Erik would see her fire was dwindling. He lifted a heavy log from the basket which sat near the brick fireplace and placed it gently atop the orange flames. He rose and turned to look at her as she walked beyond the bed sitting herself down at Christine's vanity.

"This is a lovely room. I'll wager to guess she means a lot to you. I hope I am not imposing on her," Cecilia purred as she lifted the silver brush to her golden hair as she looked attentively at her still bruised face.

Feeling a bitter chill run up his spine, Erik began to feel his body lose composure. Instantly, his eyes became cold and serious. His face slowly grew red. He stomped over to Cecilia and yanked the brush out of her hands.

"Do not touch anything in this room. You may touch the bed and only the bed." he yelled at Cecilia, as he slammed the silver brush onto the vanity. He then reached for her uninjured wrist and pulled her body close to him. As he breathed his fury on her now trembling face, his grasp became more and more powerful.

"Go to sleep now," he stated as he threw her body onto the bed. He then paraded out of the bedchamber, slamming the door behind him.

While she gasped for breath, she could hear his devilish music begin again.


	7. Chapter 7: Swallowing Your Pride

**DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two**

Erik played well into the night. At first, it was as though he was possessed with the devil himself, but as the night droned on, the music slowly turned more mournful. It became heartbreaking. It was so heartbreaking that Cecilia felt his pain filter through his music and soak into her soul.

As Erik's spell began to dwindle, Cecilia could hear faint masculine sobs. _Amazing that this man, after all I have heard about his evil nature, is in the sitting room weeping._ Cecilia's heart sank in her chest. She knew his torment. She knew his pain, but she pondered whether she had the courage to venture into the sitting room to offer her sympathies. _I may as well. What have I to lose? There is nothing for me anymore._

Still lacking the necessary fitting clothing and deciding to obey the "do not touch" orders of Erik, Cecilia ventured out into the sitting room in what was left of her now scantily-fashioned chemise. She folded her still bruised arms around her chest attempting to shelter what was left of her dignity.

As she emerged from her bedchamber, she could see his silhouette leaning over the ivory keys of the organ. His heavy but still perfectly groomed head lay in his trembling hands. His mask lay useless next to his pile of scratched music. His shirt was torn exposing his rather muscularly defined back. The candles lighting what was left of his inspiration were gradually melting and diminishing.

_I must be insane. _

She casually tiptoed toward his current position still listening to his muffled sobs. Taking in a deep breath and realizing that there was no turning back, she reached her arm out to offer him a comforting touch on his shoulder. As soon as her flesh glazed his, he spun around and grasped her wrist before she would take in her next breath. Once firmly ahold of her, his iridescent green eyes, which by now were red with crying and fatigue, pierced into her soul in dire seriousness.

"What do you want? To stare at the monster once more?" he growled.

"You are not a monster, Erik. I came to apologize to you," she replied sympathetically.

"Apologize for what? For imposing on my estate? For taking up residence in the most sacred room in my home? For using my most precious possessions?"

"Well, I do apologize for my intrusion. I assure you, that I will not impose on you or your home anymore. However, I came to apologize for mentioning the mystery woman. If it is any consolation, as far as I have observed, I understand what you are going through. I just thought you might like to know in case you wanted to talk to someone about it."

"How could you ever know what I am going through?" his voice began to elevate. "You are rich, beautiful, and the daughter of one of the wealthiest and most brilliant men in the whole of France. I am sure you have either an equally dignified husband or scores of equality dignified suitors. What would you know of my pain?"

"I did have one dignified suitor, but alas, I was not the one he wanted."

"What are you talking about?" Erik questioned, suddenly gathering an interest in her conversation.

"I guess if anyone is to swallow their foolish pride it should be me. His name is Fredrick Rosseau. He is the second cousin of the Vicompt de Changy, which as you may know, is one of the most dignified of families in Paris. To make a long story short, through a mutual agreement between our parents, we became betrothed to each other. Not wishing to rush into anything, we decided to get to know each other. As time pressed on, I fell in love with him, and I was almost certain he felt the same."

She tried to press back her tears. She felt as if her old would had been reopened all over again as she relived that horrible night. Now, struggling to continue talking, she gasped for air and began again.

"One night about a year or so ago, I had decided to surprise him with a visit in hopes he would agree to attend a rather boring dinner party with me. As my carriage pulled up to the door, I noticed a few candles glittering in his chamber. Concluding that he was indeed home, I walked up to the door and knocked. After a few moments in the snow without an answer, I gathered that the servants had left for the evening and he could not hear me, so I creaked open the door. Filled with excitement, I scurried up the stairs to his bedchamber, leaving all respectable ladylike behavior behind. I softly knocked and opened his door. To my horror, I found… Fredrick making love to none other than Suzanne Boulaire, the daughter of yet another dignified family, but who has far less social status than my own." Her tears were streaming down her face quicker than she could wipe them.

"Fredrick, upon seeing my face, sprang from the bed and ran after me as I hurried down the staircase and out the door to my carriage. All the while, he told me that it was not what I thought it was," her voice began to break. "He told me that he did not love me, and Suzanne had his heart. He apologized furiously that I had to find out this way, and…and…promised that he never meant to hurt me."

Cecilia turned from Erik and began to walk back to her room. Halfway towards the door to the bedchamber, she turned around and looked deep into Erik's eyes.

"My father died last week. My mother has been gone since before I can remember. Even my betrothed has abandoned me. So, Monsieur Phantom, look me in the eyes and tell me that I have no clue what you are feeling right now. True, I am sure your situation, whatever it may be, is a terrible one, but nonetheless, as I have poured my heart out to you tonight, I wonder if it is you who understand me."

She turned again and walked into her bedchamber leaving Erik in a half guilty half surprised state of mind.

Erik sat himself back down at the organ and slowly brought the lid to a close. There would be no more playing for him tonight. After pacing back and forth for a few moments, he decided that the best thing for him was to get out of his lair. Once changing his shirt, seizing his mask, and fashioning his cloak upon his body, he left into the remaining hours of the night.


	8. Chapter 8: Watery Doom

**DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two**

Cecilia realized it was time for her to leave this "God forsaken place." Now that she had been educated that she was not welcome, she devised a plan to leave. Yet she wondered, _how the hell am I going to get out of here when I have no clue how I got down here?_

She opened the dress closet once again and removed what was left of her favorite blue dress. _It does not look….so bad……_ She immediately tried on the disheveled garment and realized that she was at least covered to some point of decency. _I cannot walk the snow-laden streets of Paris in this contraption. _

She began searching the room for any other speck of clothing that may allow her to flee this place. Finally, after rummaging again through the dress closet, she managed to find a rather magnificent cloak. As she caressed the smooth black velvet cloak, her eyes moved toward the rather romantically cut hood. With a graceful motion, she swung the beautiful garment around her still bruised neck. _Good thing I found this, I will be able to hide my beaten face. _She chuckled at the irony of her situation. She had resorted to phantom-like techniques. Needless to say, she did not want to stay and find out what else they may have in common.

As she straightened her dress, her small clutch dropped from her petticoat. As she leaned over to obtain the satin purse, she smiled in delight. _Good. I can at least hire a carriage to get me home. That is, if I can find my way out of this place._

After making the bed and straightening up the room, Cecilia walked into the sitting room and sat at Erik's paper-burdened desk. Taking out a new scrap of parchment and inking a rather stunning quill, she wrote a brief note to Erik. Soon, she set the quill back into its stand, placed the note upon Erik's organ, and boarded the small second gondola which had been docked at the water's edge.

Erik returned minutes before the dawn graced the stunning buildings of Paris. He walked for what felt like days in the harsh bitter snow racking his mind of all of his tortures.

_I never should have been so malicious to her. _

_No, Erik. It is true. She doesn't know you. She doesn't know your pain. She could never know what it feels like to be faceless, motherless, and loveless. She does not know what it is like to have the face of a monster. She is imposing on your hospitality by touching your things and asking too many questions._

_She would never be in my home if I hadn't rigged that chandelier to fall._

_It is her fault she didn't get out of the way._

_She can't leave. She isn't strong enough yet. Besides, she has no clothing. She will die of hypothermia before she even leaves the safety of the lair._

_Who cares if she dies?_

_I do._

He really did care. The thought perplexed him. Why was he suddenly caring about someone, much less another woman? He almost pitied her. He cursed himself for being so soft.

As he walked down yet another secret passageway from the world above, Erik noticed that his smaller gondola was gone. Partly worried and somewhat angered, Erik ran over to Christine's room to see if Cecilia was still there. Upon opening the door, he saw that Cecilia has indeed left. The bed was made, the room tidied, and the fire has been extinguished. From the rather cold chill of the room, Erik concluded that Cecilia must have been gone for at least an hour.

Erik cursed again as he slammed the door shut. He trudged toward his chamber when he happened to peer over to his organ and glimpsed the sight of a piece of parchment on his keys. Curious to what it was, Erik hustled over and retrieved the note.

_Monsieur Phantom,_

_I do humbly thank you for your kindness on my behalf. I am truly grateful for your hospitality. I do, however, apologize for my rather unwelcome intrusion. Furthermore, I daresay I further apologize from abandoning your "do not touch" rule as I was in need of clothing in which to travel in, and may I add that you are a man with impeccable taste in women's clothing. Please accept my apologies and the two thousand francs I have placed upon your desk as a symbol of my gratitude. _

_Sincerely,_

_Madamoiselle Cecilia Deveraux _

Erik felt his anger rise into his throat as he crushed the note in the palm of his hand. To ensure that she was indeed telling the truth, he went to his desk to find two thousand francs lying atop of his mess of papers. It was then he came to the realization that she was gone, and she had attempted to flee from his lair. Then, he remembered that she would never make it out of the labyrinth of the catacombs alive with every trap having been set by Erik to ensure no more mobs would be able to seek him out.

Erik cursed again at his temper and his ever growing softness for women. _Dammit! She could be anywhere down here._ He was certain she had not been able to find her way out. Sure, she was stubborn and very intelligent, but the most valiant of men did not survive the depths of Erik's madness. With another curse, Erik boarded the largest of the gondolas and began his search for Cecilia.

Meanwhile, Cecilia found herself very lost in the maze of stone walls and water. Even with the candle she has brought with her, she was unable to see more than a foot in front of her which made it even harder to navigate. As determined as she was to leave, she began to wonder if she would ever make it out alive.

As she stared down into the murky water, she found that she was indeed lost. When she turned her head to look at the stone wall, she decided that she had seen it before. She was traveling in circles. _This is useless. I need to get out of this boat._ As she jumped out of the boat, ready to swim, she found that the water was only a few feet deep and barely reached her thighs. Delighted by this notion, she grasped her candle and began to wade away from the gondola.

She frantically began the search for the way out. She outstretched her hands to feel the stone wall as she followed it, hoping that it would somehow lead her out. While her fingers felt the smooth stone bricks, she came across a stone carving in the wall. Hoping it would yield some kind of clue, she lifted her candle to its eyes and examined its face. She recognized it as an oil lamp and placed her candle into the oil at the top of the carving. Suddenly, the entire room lit up as the fire from her candle traveled through the oil in no less than ten identical stone-carved oil lamps.

A smile crept across her face as she turned in all directions to examine the room. As her head turned slightly, she could hear the faint sound of rushing water. _I must be close to the exit._

Her eyes, not adjusted to the light, became transfixed on a flight of stone steps now in front of her. As she rushed and commenced climbing towards the top, her face grew pale and her eyes grew wide with horror as she saw a flood of rushing water progressing to her.

Erik heard a blood-curling scream coming from one of the entrances into the catacombs. As he rowed further toward the opening, he could see a faint light projecting down a passageway. He also noticed that the water became rough and appeared to rise a bit. He remembered his trap and rowed quicker to the point of initiation.

Once his boat came around the bend, Erik made out the vision of a woman in a black cloak lying face-down in the water. _Oh no! I am too late!_

Erik jumped out of the vessel and swiftly waded to Cecilia's again lifeless body. He contemplated that there was no way she could have survived such a trap in her weak condition. However, as he loaded her into his vessel and breathed air into her mouth, she coughed and showed signs of life. Her still stunning blue eyes stared innocently up into Erik's equally piercing ones and once again closed as she fainted into unconsciousness.


	9. Chapter 9: Bed & Breakfast

**DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two**

Cecilia awoke the following day in Christine's room. Immediately recognizing her surroundings, she wondered why he had brought her back here when he so obviously did not want her there. Still ravaged with weakness and exhaustion, she laid back down upon the still soft and warm silk pillows.

She adjusted her weight in order to lie on her side. Whilst opening her eyes, she noticed her two thousand francs on the bedside table. She could tell by the simple gesture that under different circumstances, she would have liked Erik. He was equally as prideful as she was. _Well, he obviously does not want to ransom me._

While she let out a deep relieved sigh, the bedroom door opened. She shifted her body in the general direction of the door and stared at the rather handsome man standing in her doorway.

"May I come in?" he asked as he creaked the door open further.

"Yes, you may Monsieur." She could tell he was thinking of what to say as he casually walked to the bed.

As he began to walk toward the vanity, she stated, "You can sit on the bed. No need for a man to sit in such a dainty little chaise." He stared at her as though she had read his mind.

Lowering himself onto the bed, she took the opportunity to study him once more. Not usually being a woman of lustful yearning, she found herself blushing while gazing at his rather defined body. She wanted nothing more than to rip his white shirt off and kiss his exposed flesh.

She suddenly turned her face away from him as he looked down at her.

With a smile appearing across his face, he asked, "Are you feeling ok?"

While attempting to sit herself in an upright position, she responded with a nod. He began to study her face thinking how pretty she was.

"I can see that the bruising and swelling are almost gone. You may actually be a pretty woman someday," he joked.

As she hit him with a pillow, almost knocking his mask off, she sank back into the covers and pulled the sheets over her face allowing only her eyes to glimpse over the blankets. He chuckled while he seized the rather pitiful weapon from her grip.

"You're mean, Erik."

"I know. That is what makes me so likable."

"Why did you bring me back here? I thought you wanted me to go."

"You need to understand something, Cecilia," he began in a calm and sympathetic voice, "I found you half dead next to the chandelier. I brought you here without thinking of the consequences. I am not a man who is accustomed to having other people in my presence here, and you ask way too many questions for your own damn good. I have no clue how to react."

"So, then why didn't you just leave me? Someone might have found me sooner or later."

"I honestly do not know. For some reason, I felt that you needed me."

_If you only knew how I really need you._ She wanted to slap herself for having such impure thoughts. It was uncharacteristic of her.

"Are you hungry?"

As her lips went to say "no," her stomach let out a loud growl. She realized she had not eaten in days.

Looking down at her stomach, Erik smiled. Cecilia had no idea how to react to this foreign expression on his face.

"Come on. I will make you some breakfast," he said as he pulled the sheets away from her body. She looked down and noticed that she was wearing a nightdress. A nightdress that actually fit her. A bit puzzled, she followed Erik to the kitchen.

As he searched for a pan, she retrieved some eggs, bread, butter, and a bowl from the pantry. She began to crack the eggs when he gently placed his hands on her shoulders and led her to the rounded table just outside of the kitchen.

"I told you I would make breakfast."

She sat in silence as he cooked. She was afraid to ask him anything now that he commented that he did not like questions. She respected his orders. She drummed her fingers on the table until a plate was placed in front of her. As she lifted the fork to her mouth, Erik sat down next to her.

"You are awfully quiet, Cecilia. It is very uncharacteristic of you."

Trying to remember her womanly manners, she finished chewing her forkful of eggs and replied, "What is it you would like to discuss? You requested I not ask any questions, and I must say, you know pretty much all there is to know about me."

He pondered for a bit. "No, there is much I do not know about you."

"Like what for example?"

"Can you sing? What types of books do you like? How do you like your tea? What was your mother's name? Do you have any siblings? Just to name a few."

"Yes, I can sing. I have taken extensive lessons. I enjoy all books, but mainly poetry. I do not like tea, only hot water with lemon. My mother's name was Adrienne. No, I am an only child. However, Erik, I must implore you, it is rude for you to ask questions to me when I am not allowed to ask them to you."

"Oh, you may ask questions, it is just whether or not I will answer them," he said smugly.

"Very well," she replied.

They sat in silence for the remainder of the meal. Erik, having been relieved that Cecilia did not wish to ask anymore questions, arose from his seat to take her plate to the kitchen.

"I shall draw you a bath. I am sure it will make you feel much better."

She nodded in agreement as she followed him to the bedchamber. As he walked out of the bathroom, he gestured to her that everything was ready. She politely nodded and scooted him from her room.

He couldn't help but wish that she somehow she would be able to love him. He cursed himself from even thinking he would love another woman in his life. However, Erik's body could not hide the yearning to empower her voluptuous body. He could not get her out of his mind. He kept retracing the curves of her skin that he saw when changed her into the nightgown. He could not help but think of her soft silky skin and her even softer blond hair. He wanted nothing more in his life than the love of a woman. To experience a soulful union of their souls as he passionately made love to her.

_She really is turning you soft isn't she old boy. You are turning into a hopeless romantic sex fiend. _

Erik began to wonder how much Cecilia actually knew about him. Did she know about the murders? Or his almost affair with Christine? _No, how could she possibly know anything. _

Cecilia settled into her bath with a deep sigh. It felt good to be clean again. As she stepped out of the bathtub and dried herself off, she could not help but wonder if all of the myths about the Phantom of the Opera were true. _What does it matter? He is obviously a jilted man. That can really change a person._

She began to think of his body again. It had been so long since she was touched by a man. She could not help but admit that his rather villainous and mysterious behavior was rather stimulating to her. It was then she came to a decision.

_I am going to seduce him before he has a chance to ask me to leave again. _


	10. Chapter 10: So Much for Seduction

**DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two**

As he pressed the last note on his new masterpiece, Erik could not help but smile. It was the first time in years he was able to write for himself.

He found it odd that his mood had changed to drastically. Christine had barely left him less than a week ago, and he was on the verge of suicide that same night. He had no idea why suddenly he felt that life was actually worth living.

He stared down at his parchment. It had been the product of so many feelings. He poured out every heartbreak, every disappointment, every savored moment, and every single thought he had been feeling that week.

For the first time in months, Erik actually was in the mood to leave the lair. He sprang from his organ bench, fetched his cloak, and made his way out of the catacombs.

_I wonder if Cecilia would like to join me. _

_No, she is in her bath. Let her alone. _

_Why would she want to come with a monster anyway?_

So, with slightly dampened spirits, the Opera Ghost left his lair.

Cecilia seemed to all of a sudden glow with desire and need. True, she had never known the physical love of a man, but ever since she walked in on Fredrick and Suzanne, she could not help but wonder what it would be like.

Trying to keep her ex-fiancé out of her mind, she began to groom herself. She carefully brushed her golden hair to ensure that her curls would keep intact. Next, she helped herself to the slew of lotions and perfumes eloquently stacked in a row atop of the vanity. With hair and skin smelling of summer lilies, she moved onto the array of powers and blushes neatly placed in the small drawer.

_There is no way he is going to resist me. _

She gazed at herself in the mirror and smiled. She had never thought of herself as a ravishing beauty, but she did have to admit that tonight she looked pretty damn good.

She walked over to the bureau and acquired some undergarments. As she slipped on the black lacy knickers she bent over to retrieve the equally lacy black corset from the drawer. It was Christine's or more appropriately should have been Christine's. Although the corset was a size or two too small, Cecilia rather liked what it did for her figure. Her tiny waist was more accented as usual and her rather ample bosom was leaving little to one's imagination.

Finally, she made her way to the dress closet. As she fumbled through the frocks, she noticed that Erik has indeed purchased a dress for her.

_Well that was nice of him. _

But this occasion was not a dress occasion. So, she found the next best thing: Christine's cloak. As she again slipped on the velvet confection, she felt entirely like a different person. Even as she looked at herself in the mirror, she was not the bratty yet innocent composer's daughter. She was now a raging seductress. She chuckled at the thought.

As she leaned her ear to the door, she could not hear anymore music coming from the sitting room.

_He must have retired to his bedchamber_.

She opened her chamber door and tiptoed to the mysterious chamber of Erik. As she opened the door, she glimpsed a single window into Erik's tormented soul. Her eyes were gazing upon hundreds of thousands of pictures, drawings, and sculptures of Christine. She saw sketches, oils, watercolors, and even a human-sized doll complete with beautiful long hair.

Cecilia's eyes opened wide when she began to recognize the woman. _It is Christine Daae. He is in love with Christine Daae. _

The hair on the back of her neck rose. Cecilia was dumbfounded. _No wonder he is having such difficulties. Isn't she engaged to the Viacompt? _

Being rather close to the de Changy family, Cecilia naturally knew all of their secrets. She was told by Raoul himself of his engagement the vary night he asked the pretty diva. Cecilia could not help but wonder why Erik was in love with Christine.

_She is only a child. Barely even eighteen years old! He must be in his mid-thirties. What would a man his age want with such a young bride?_

She cursed at herself. Why did she care if he loved Christine? What did it matter?

Cecilia then realized the truth. She was jealous, and she was in love. She gasped at the realization. After Fredrick, she thought she would never love again.

_I have only known him for a little over a week._

_True, but he is the only person in the world who truly understands you. _

_But he is a murderer! He almost killed you._

_But he did save your life. _

Suddenly repulsed by her seductive, or almost seductive, behavior, she hurried back to her room, closed the door, and flung herself embarrassingly on her bed.

_He would never want you. Why would he ever want you when she has the face and voice of an angel? Even your Fredrick wanted someone else_.

Cecilia decided to come to terms with the truth. Erik loved Christine and would never love her.

_Hell, he barely even likes me. _

As her thoughts overtook her, she began to weep.

Meanwhile, Erik was enjoying a nice brisk walk in the darkened streets of Paris. Perfectly hidden in the darkness, he was able to observe the coming and going of people. As he turned down a rather well-lit street, he pulled his cloak over his eyes. He all of a sudden heard a faint sound of music. _There must be a party in Paris tonight._

As his ears followed the sounds of music, his eyes became transfixed on a window. He peered in and saw the ever-stunning Christine. As waltzing people danced in front of her, Erik could see her smiling as her Viacompt handed her a glass of white wine. She was ravishing in her pink gown. Her pretty brown curls had been pulled up into a cascading chignon with scores of white flowers. She was surrounded by six or seven ladies pushing and pulling each other in order to get a glimpse at her engagement ring. As she held out her lily white hand, Erik caught her staring lovingly into the eyes of her fiancé.

Erik's heart sank in his chest. He knew then that Christine was no longer his. He watched as her fiancé kissed her cheek, and saw her eyes sparkle as he walked away from her. She was glowing. Erik had never recalled seeing her so happy.

The Viacompt had everything that Erik had ever wished for. Most importantly, he had the love of Christine. Erik longed to have her look at him with such adoration. He longed for the slight chance of being able to kiss her cheek without her flinching or avoiding his affection. Most of all, he wanted to be the one responsible for her happiness.

However, he would not have felt more miserable or monstrous. _Goodbye Christine._ He turned around in one rapid movement and started his journey back to the opera house with tears pouring down his masked face.

Erik returned to the lair with a large bottle of brandy. Once sitting down and preparing to pour himself a drink, he heard Cecilia weep in her chamber. Curious as to what had upset her, he grabbed his brandy, poured a second glass, and gently knocked on Cecilia's door. When there was no answer, he began to slowly open it.

"Cecilia is something wrong?" he asked as she immediately sat up and shielded her face from him.

"Oh, Erik," she began with her voice cracking, "everything is fine. Where did you go?"

"I took a walk around Paris. Do not change the subject, Cecilia, what is wrong."

"Nothing," she said as she turned her now red face towards him.

He noticed that she had cleaned herself up rather nicely. Her curls were perfectly intact and the entire room smelled of lilies. Erik quickly became intoxicated by the scent.

Not really knowing what to do, he held up the second glass of brandy to her.

"Here, this will ease whatever your pain may be."

"Thank you," she replied as she took a small sip from the glass.

They sat on the bed in silence for a few moments. In hopes of making her feel better, Erik turned his face to her.

"You look very pretty."

She smiled a small smile in reply. She did not know if he really meant it or was merely saying it to make her feel better.

"Thank you," she again said almost inaudibly.

"Well, you better get to bed. I am sure you have better things to do than entertain a Phantom," he said as he arose and walked out of the room before she even had the chance to say anything.

_Obviously something is bothering him. _

She quickly guzzled down the remaining brandy, and decided to find out what was indeed wrong with Erik.

Erik had retreated to the sanctuary of his room. He sat on his four-poster bed and gazed at all of his pictures of Christine. He succumbed to the torture his mind inflicted on his heart. He delved further into his obsession with her. He sat and contemplated every single moment he spent with her.

He decided that he could not live without her. Setting down his second glass of brandy, he reached over to his bedside table. Opening the drawer, he pulled out his weapon: his lasso. This time he was ready for death.

As he strung the rope around the top of his sturdy bed, he stood up on the mattress and slipped the rope around his neck.

As he was tightening it, his door opened.

"Erik," he heard Cecilia's concerned voice scream, "what are you doing?"

The surprise almost made him fall off the side of the rather tall bed. As he regained his balance, Cecilia was already by his side. Taking his knife from his corner desk, she cut the rope from Erik's neck.

"What in the Hell do you think you are doing?" she screamed at him.

"What the Hell did it look like I was doing?" he replied.

"Why do you want to kill yourself, Erik?"

"Because life without her is no longer worth living!"

"Erik, Christine does not love you. Just accept it and move on. It is the only way you can be happy again."

Erik's anger began to build up again.

"How do you know her name was Christine? What are you even doing here?"

"I came to see if you are alright!" she said as she looked again around his room, "This is not healthy, Erik." She gestured at the paintings and the doll.

Now having his anger in full force, he stormed towards her, backing her up in the corner right next to the doll.

"I do not give a damn!" he loudly growled, "I never asked you for your opinion. Get out of my room."

"No."

"Get out or I will be forced to do something I am sure you will not like very much."

"Fine. On one condition."

"And what is that Mademoiselle," he growled as she was testing his patience.

"I take this." She ducked under Erik's arm, grabbed the doll of Christine, and ran to her room. Erik, in a brief moment of shock, turned and began to pursue her. However, Cecilia was already safe in her locked bedroom once Erik made it to her door.

As he pounded on her door, she could hear him scream, "Give that back now! I swear the moment you emerge, I will kill you! If you never leave, then you will starve to death you conniving Delilah!"

Erik stood at her door for at least an hour yelling and threatening her before he hit the door once more and retreated to his organ. He pressed on throughout the night with his again devilishly haunting music. Finally, well into the night, Cecilia could hear him retreat to his room.

Having stripped the doll of her hair and clothing, Cecilia emerged from her bedchamber and crept toward the lake. Having tied a leftover brick to the doll, Cecilia dropped it into the lake. Hoping that the slash did not awaken Erik, she scurried back to her room and locked the door.

"Now, it is time to finish what I started," she whispered.


	11. Chapter 11: Sweet Surrender

**DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two**

Cecilia had come to the conclusion that: for one, she had nothing to lose, and two the worse thing that could happen was he could kill her. _Death would be much better than living alone for the rest of my life. _

Cecilia placed the brown wig from the doll on her now gathered blond hair and fastened it with hairpins. Next, she slipped on the new dress that Erik has purchased for her. Had she not been so voluptuous or has known any better, she would have mistaken herself for Christine.

_Perfect. He is most likely fairly drunk. He will never know the difference._

With butterflies in her stomach, she took a beep breath and gathered her candle. She slowly and gently treaded towards Erik's room. While she creaked open the door, she would hear his shallow breathing. She swept herself into the room and closed the door behind her.

_You can do this, Cecilia. _

With another deep breath, she walked to his bed. He was lying under his satin sheets with only a pair of silky pants on. As he slept, she noticed his rather muscular chest tense from time to time. Hoping to trap him into her scheme, she began to sing the melody from Don Juan Triumphant.

His eyes slowly opened and looked toward her shadow.

"Christine," he whispered in a half-sleeping state.

"Yes, my love. I am here." Cecilia pretended.

She walked toward the bed and held out her hand to him. She could tell that he was extremely inebriated from his manner and empty brandy bottle on the floor.

"I love you," she whispered.

Tears began to fill his eyes and suddenly a wave of guilt swept over Cecilia's face. Luckily, the room was still dark and Erik did not notice.

He pulled her to him and placed his arms around her waist. He held her for moments sobbing into her bodice. Cecilia placed her hand on his unscarred cheek and tenderly caressed his skin. Then, with a loving sigh, she tilted his face to hers and passionately kissed him. The mere feeling of his return kiss made her entire plan worthwhile.

She no longer cared that it was not her he wanted. For the moment, the dream was all she needed. Just a glimpse into the love that he had for Christine made her feel whole again.

His kisses became more and more passionate and deep. His arms had tightened around her possessively and made their way up to the back of her dress. She could feel his hands slowly unbuttoning her bodice. Soon, he was slipping her dress over her head and moving on to the corset. She shivered with excitement as he lovingly began to untie her while still flooding her with kisses.

As he removed her corset, he began kissing her bare shoulders. His hands moved slowly up her bare back and her skin began to chill from her lack of clothing. His hands finally moved back down and slipped underneath her petticoat. With one soft movement, he pushed down her petticoat and knickers to her ankles. Then, he lifted her body out of the mess of clothing and laid her on the bed.

As his body pressed on top of her, she could feel his manhood grow and begin to pulse with excitement. He was kissing her neck and began to work his way down to her exposed breasts. As her body felt the sensation of his soft lips on her skin, her nipples suddenly became erect. Erik, sensing this change, ran his warm tongue down the middle of her chest and proceeded to taunt each nipple until Cecilia began to squirm with pleasure.

Cecilia pulled him back to her lips and began to lightly caress his skin. Slowly, she removed his mask and wrapped her legs around him when he tried to reach for it. Setting the object on the table, she proceeded to move her hands down his back towards the small of his back. As he had some with her petticoat, she slipped off his silk pants and tossed them onto the floor.

Although she could not see him, she felt him smile as he continued to kiss her. While he continued to caress her body, she felt that she could not take it anymore.

"Erik…" she whispered, "make love to me."

Once the last syllable left her lips, he kissed her again as he entered into her aroused body. After a few moments of rather uncomfortable pain, Cecilia began to relax as he slowly moved in and out of her. His weight on her body was heavenly. She felt complete as he possessed her and hungrily kissed her lips.

He continued loving her gently as though she was precious and fragile. He took the greatest care in ensuring she was comfortable. He slipped his hands under her shoulder blades and he began to climax. She could feel his body tense as he attempted to keep control. Suddenly, as she began to feel his body shake in ecstasy, she felt her own climax approach and erupt as he continued to move within her. As his breathing grew heavier, she let out a moan of pleasure and felt him collapse on her exhausted body.

She felt his arms tense around her once again and hold her tightly into an embrace.

"I love you Christine," he said as he drifted back into sleep.

"I love you more, Erik." Cecilia whispered as she shed a tear.


	12. Chapter 12: Erik's Big Mistake

THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR REVIEWS, ESPECIALLY THOSE OF YOU WITH CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM. I FEEL THE ONLY WAY TO IMPROVE MY WRITING IS THROUGH OUTSIDE SUGGESTIONS! PLEASE KEEP 'EM COMING!

**DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two**

Erik awoke to the sound of his grandfather clock striking the hour of six. As the last chime rang through his ears, he sat up and stretched his back.

_What a night_. He recalled what had happened between Cecilia and him. As he rubbed his head to sooth his headache from his stale hangover, he looked beside him. He smiled as he saw Cecilia lying next to him still wearing the doll's wig. Erik lovingly stroked her bare back as he began to feel rather guilty for what he had done.

True, he had been drunk as she came to him that night, but he was always able to hold his liquor well. It would take more than the bottle of brandy to get him to the point of complete and utter loss of control. Even the mild herbs he had been taking were still not strong enough to completely tear him from his natural state of mind.

Then he remembered those herbs. Herbs from a distant land that absorbed through the skin. One could not smell them or feel the moment in which they entered the bloodstream. These were the same herbs that caused euphoria and desire in even the most unhappy of people. The same herbs he was going to give Christine on their wedding night. The same herbs, he realized, were put into all of Christine's lotions and bath oils. His face grew pale as he came to the conclusion. He had drugged Cecilia and himself in the process. He recalled painstakingly preparing the bath for her. As he poured the oils into the bath, he placed his hand in the water to blend the mixture and test the water temperature.

_No wonder I felt happy. No wonder she became so jealous about Christine's pictures and the doll. No wonder she came to me in that lustful state last night! _It all made sense to him.

_She is going to kill me_.

Erik sprang from the bed angry, shocked, and full of guilt. He paced back and forth as he contemplated what he was going to do.

_Should I tell her?_

_Of course you should! Like she doesn't know what happened last night!_

_What if she thought it was a dream?_

_She isn't that stupid!_

He walked toward the bed as through to wake her, but quickly turned around and walked to his fireplace. Placing his hands on the mantle, he leaned forward to catch his spastic breath.

_If she was under a spell, then why did she pretend to be Christine?_

He had thought she was playing a part. That she was acting in order to make the occasion seem more fantastical.

_What is she going to think now? When I told her I loved her, I was speaking to her and not to Christine. She is going to think I thought she was Christine! I am only going to hurt her even more._

Erik realized he needed to approach this situation carefully. Even though she may love him, he knew it was not in her proper nature to beg him to make love to her. Even last night it seemed odd to him, but his need for some sort of wanting from a woman made him forget his conscience.

_I have to tell her. _

Erik walked to her side of the bed and collected his mask. Placing it on his face, he sat on the bed, placing his hand on Cecilia's head. As he removed the wig, he whispered her name.

"Cecilia. Time to wake up."

She moaned as she turned on her back. As she opened her pretty eyes, she looked at Erik. Suddenly, she jumped and grasped the satin sheets to cover her modesty. She saw the wig in his hand. _I thought that was a dream!_

"Erik….. I can explain…" she started.

"No," he interrupted, "I am the one who should be explaining."

She looked at him puzzled now. _What does he have to explain? I am the one who posed as Christine and begged him to make love to me._

"First of all, let me say I am sorry. I did not realize what happened until this morning," he began, "I was rather curious why you came to me last night. I was so stupid! I should have known that you would not want me unless something was wrong."

"What are you talking about?"

"You were drugged Cecilia. All of Christine's lotions and oils have special herbs in them in order for her to feel some sort of desire for me. I was a desperate man. I would do anything to get her to love me even if that meant she would not be acting on her own accord. Those herbs were accidentally put into your bath last night. I promise you, I would never have used them willingly!"

"Wait a minute, Erik. You are telling me, I was drugged?" she said as she felt herself slowly becoming angry, "and that all of my emotions and actions last night were completely fabricated?"

"Yes," he said as his head fell.

She looked at him in disbelief. She did not know what to say. She was so confused. Did she love him or was that only the herbs? Did he mean to do drug her?

"How did you know I wasn't Christine? You were so drunk…."

"My dear, you are obviously not Christine. I have never been so drunk as to not recognize the people around me."

"What do you mean I am obviously not Christine," she snapped, appearing to look quite offended, "You played along the whole time?"

The guilty look on his face was all the answers she needed.

_Of course I am not Christine. He wouldn't be stupid enough to fall for that trick. She is, after all, thin and beautiful while I am somewhat chubby and plenty bruised. He only wanted to pretend I was Christine! If he is desperate enough to drug her, I am sure he was desperate enough to pretend. All the while, I was so stupid! Stupid enough to think that he recognized me, and realize I was the one he wanted. _

Thoughts continued to race through her head as she got up form the bed. Fastening the sheets around her, she stormed out of his room.

"Wait….Cecilia…. I am so sorry!" he said as he rose to chase after her.

She refused to listen. She shut her chamber door and locked it. As the flung herself on her bed, she began to cry.

_What he must think of me. How could I have acted so foolish? I went against my entire standard of beliefs to be with him. Did I really want to do it? Do I really love him? _

_If you didn't love him, would this situation hurt so much?_

_Is it me he really wanted?_

_Of course not! Why would he want you when Christine has so much more to offer?_

_Maybe he has gotten over her._

_How long did it take you to get over Fredrick? These things do not happen overnight._

She became disgusted with herself. She felt so stupid.

_He must think I am a whore. I gave my virginity to a man who loves another woman. Am I ever going to get a break?_


	13. Chapter 13: The Maestro's Home

**DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two**

Erik sat by Cecilia's door for hours. He could hear the muffled sounds of her crying through the door. His heart broke to know he had caused her so much pain.

He felt completely helpless. He had no idea what to do.

_She must be so angry with me. I cannot blame her. She must think I am such a fool. A poor desperate sex-starved fool. _

The day dwelled on and quickly turned into night. Erik has fallen asleep at the foot of Cecilia's door as she emerged.

She was wearing her torn blue dress again. Her hair was pinned up as neatly as possible. Her blue eyes looked down at Erik as he lay asleep. Crouching down to his level, she placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Erik…" she whispered, "Erik….."

He stirred quickly beneath her touch. His reddened green eyes stared at her apologetic and sad.

"Cecilia…I am so sorry," he began.

"No, Erik. It is I who must be sorry. Do not fret about it."

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Actually…" her voiced trailed off. "Do you think you could take me home?"

His heart sank at her request. _She must really be disappointed in me. She doesn't want to be with me here anymore. _

"Of course. Give me a few minutes," he said as he rose to his feet. As he walked to his bedchamber, he stared back at her. He watched as she fiddled with her dress and walked toward the sitting room.

The boat ride was silent as Erik and Cecilia reached the end of the riverbed just outside of the Opera Populaire. Cecilia gasped as she once again saw the stars. _How I have missed this. How I have missed the world._

As Erik helped her out of the boat, he led her to the hidden stable just beyond the edge of the forest.

"Really, Erik, you do not have to go out of your way. I can catch a carriage."

"No. I would like to ensure that you arrive home safely. It is awfully late in the evening, and shady types linger around here at night."

"Very well." She had come to the conclusion that there was no use in arguing with him. "Do you know where I live?"

"No, not really. I only know it is on the outskirts of the city. I was near there once before. Your father, if I can recall, owned a great deal of land. I am sure I can find it."

She restricted herself from speaking as she mounted the beautiful ebony horse. While she adjusted her skirt to allow her side-saddle position to be more comfortable, she felt Erik mount the horse behind her. He gathered the reins in his hands and held her close to his with his elbows as they began to trot into the darkness.

It took them about an hour or so to reach her father's home. As Erik pulled up to the large rod-iron gate, he looked down at Cecilia.

"It looks rather dark."

"Yes. I fired all of my father's servants shortly after his death. I was so stricken with mourning and emotion that every sight of them reminded me of him. Also, I did not need gossipy maids poking around my manor while I was tending to father's funeral and estate."

"I do not blame you. As you probably have guessed, I do not like people around either."

"Do you want to stay? It is terribly late. I realize a single woman having a single man in her abode is looked down upon by society, and trust me until recently I would have not allowed it, but nevertheless, I would like it if you could stay. I have many rooms and as you can guess many more music rooms."

"I do not think so. I must be going."

"Why? You do not have any plans. There is no opera to haunt. I have stables in the rear of the house for your horse, and like I said, it is very late. You should not be traveling at this hour. I will not take "no" for an answer Monsieur Phantom."

Erik realized there was no arguing with Cecilia. There were no other people around, and he was far enough away from the city to at least have some peace and quiet. He quickly talked himself into the idea. _At least she doesn't hate me. That's a good start._

He nodded as he made his way to the stables. Cecilia, rather pleased to be home, walked up the cobblestone path to her rather large front door. Realizing that her key was missing, she began lifting stones in her front path to find her hidden spare.

_One…two….three….four…this must be it. _Straining to see in the dark, she knocked on the larger stones closest to the door. After a few minutes of searching, she was able to locate the loose one and extracted the rather rusty key that lay underneath.

As she opened her door, she could smell her father. The smell of his pipe suddenly came back to her as she remembered her last moments with him. He had collapsed in this doorway. They were going to go on their morning walk around the grounds so he would spy on his garden and see how his precious roses where doing. He was so upset when winter had come. His once perfectly red roses had begun to shrivel with the falling of the snow. Still, he visited them everyday. On that morning he wasn't himself. His breathing had become coarse, and he seemed to walk abnormally. He fell as he reached their front door and Cecilia, hearing the noises from her upstairs bedroom, rushed down to the foot of the stairs as the servants tended to him. Gaston, their butler, went to seek a doctor as Isabelle, their head of the household, ran to get some wash cloths and blankets. Cecilia fell to her knees at her father's side.

"Mon Pere! Are you alright?" she wept.

"Ma chere, do not cry. I fear…I fear….it is time," he replied to her.

"Time for what?"

"It is time for me to see your mother once again."

Tears had rolled down her face uncontrollably once he finished speaking. She gathered him in her arms and kissed his forehead.

"Did I ever tell you Cecilia how much you look like your mother? Thank the good Lord that you were blessed with her pretty face…" he began, "I loved her so… so much. I thank God every morning and every night for her and for you. For a man…with such a horrid face…I never deserved her, but bless her soul, she loved me."

His eyes grew heavy and his breathing became staggered. "Cecilia, promise me one thing. When you fall in love again, look past the outside. Look beyond the handsome face and elegant clothing and find the man within. Do not marry for money, status, or even beauty. Marry for love, and love alone…"

As he trailed off, he managed to whisper, "Cecilia. I will always be with you. I love you more than you will ever know…"

"Oh, papa…" she cried, "I love you too. More than you will ever know."

He died in her arms before Isabelle could even return with the wash cloths. She sat there with his head in her arms for what seemed like hours until the doctor arrived and pronounced him deceased.

As a tear fell down her cheek, Cecilia heard Erik's voice behind her.

"Cecilia, is something wrong?"

"Oh! Erik!" she said being startled by his presence. "Everything is fine."

She did not want to burden him with more emotional trauma tonight.

"Please so come inside."

As she shut the door behind her, she was pleased to see that Erik was starting a fire. The house had grown rather cold in her absence. She lit a few candles and turned toward Erik.

"Would you like me to take your cloak?" she asked trying to be the most accommodating hostess as possible.

"Do not worry about it; I will take care of it. Thank you for the offer," he replied.

"Well then. I suppose you would like to see the house?"

"That is only if you wish to show me the house. Mind you, you are the one who invited me to stay."

She blushed at his words. He was such a gentleman. She could not believe that he could be such a violent person at times.

"Please follow me," she requested as she gathered her candelabra in her hand and walked toward the kitchen.

As she showed him the kitchen, library, sitting rooms, music rooms, conservatory, and guest rooms, she led him to one of the largest rooms in the house.

As she opened the door, she turned to him and said, "This shall be your room tonight. I hope it is to your liking. As you know the music room is down the hall and the bathroom is to your right. Should you need anything, do not hesitate to ask. The kitchen is yours to roam, and my bedchamber is down at the end of the hall."

He walked into the room as she lit a fire in the fireplace. He was in awe at the deep greens and blues of the room. He marveled at the dark wood furniture which appeared to be almost black once the light of the fire filled the room. As Cecilia lit the few rather large candles, he walked around the room taking in its beauty. Paintings of famous divas dressed in their costumes from Monsieur Deveraux's many operas hung on the elaborately painted walls.

Erik hung his cloak on the edge of the corner chaise as Cecilia drew the large velveteen curtains closed. She then gathered her candelabra and walked to the door.

"Goodnight, Erik. Hope you sleep well."

"Cecilia, you know I rarely sleep," he said as he walked to her. As he neared her, he put his arms around her waist and brought his face within inches of her pretty little nose. "I am really sorry about last night, Cecilia. Please forgive me. It was a mistake, I promise."

"I know it was, Erik. I was foolish…I should never have…"

He backed away from her a bit. "You mean you were aware of what you were doing?"

"Of course I was! Of course, I would never have done…what I did…no easily without some sort of … help, but yes I did it on my own free will."

"You mean… you wanted to…be with me? Were you just doing it to make me forget Christine?"

Cecilia began to feel uncomfortable. "I really should get to bed, Erik. It is late and…"

"Not so fast Cecilia. Please tell me. Did you want to be with me?"

"Yes," she whispered almost inaudibly as her face looked down at the floor in shame, "what you must think of me…"

"Goodnight, Erik," she said as she hurried out of the room. Erik stood in his same spot until he heard her bedroom door shut. A smile crept to his face.

_She is not mad at me. She wanted to be with me. The beautiful Cecilia Deveraux wanted to be with me…_

He could hardly contain his happiness. He quickly gathered one of the lit candles and hurried to the nearest music room.

_This occasion calls for a new composition!_


	14. Chapter 14: Her Fiance

**DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two**

Erik looked out the window of the music room and noticed that the sun was beginning to rise. He could not recall the last time he was able to see such a wonderful sight.

He was putting the finishing touches on his new composition. Once the last notes had been perfectly placed, he could hear Cecilia's footsteps stirring down the hallway towards the staircase. He rose from the piano stool and stood in the doorway to watch Cecilia reach the staircase.

She was wearing a glorious lavender dress complete with a matching bonnet-like hat. She looked as though she was going out for the day.

"And where do you think you are going?" Erik purred.

Cecilia jumped back in shock. "Erik, you scared the heavens out of me!" I am going to the market. There is nothing to eat here. I was also going to place a notice in the Paris Chronicle for new household help. I cannot continue to run this place without someone to help me."

Erik gave her a strange look as he folded his muscular arms around his chest.

"Are you going alone?" he asked.

"Would you like to come?" she asked in return.

"Oh no! I could not possibly be around people. They stare too much and ask too may questions. But may I ask, how are you going to get there?"

"I was going to try to catch a carriage. I have one in the stables, but alas, when I fired our stableman I allowed him to take the horses with him because they meant so much to him."

"That does leave you in a predicament my dear. Actually, I was going to be traveling to the lair myself. Perhaps I could…possibly…give you a ride?"

"Why are you returning to the lair? You are more than welcome to remain here. No one will bother you, I promise. In fact, I could use some assistance in choosing some new housekeepers."

"I cannot continue to impose on you. I fear I have taken up too much of your time already."

"I assure you, you are no trouble. In fact, I rather enjoy having you around."

_Hmm. So, she likes my company. A far cry from hating me after our episode a day or so ago._

While Erik stood in the hallway making his decision, Cecilia heard a loud knock on her front door. She looked at Erik with a puzzled expression.

"Who would be calling to my estate this early in the morning?" she asked aloud without expecting an answer from Erik.

"Please wait here a moment. I will fetch the door," she ordered as she descended down the stairs.

When she reached the door, she made sure her hat was on straight and grasped the large iron handle. As the door opened, she immediately recognized who was standing on her porch. It was Fredrick and Suzanne.

"Good morning, Cecilia," Fredrick said as he began to smile, "isn't it a lovely morning?"

"Good morning Fredrick…Suzanne," she said as she tried to remain cordial, "Please do come in." She gestured for her former fiancé and his current betrothed to enter her home.

"I apologize. I was not expecting visitors this early in the morning."

"We do apologize. We realize it is very early, but we needed to speak with you immediately," Fredrick motioned.

"Alright, what is it I can do for you this fine winter morning?" she asked.

"Cecilia, as you know, I have asked Suzanne to be my wife. However, due to some unreasonable pleas from my family, they consider our relationship to be void due to my past engagement to you."

He swallowed hard as Cecilia sat down in her chair. _Please, why does he have to bring this up to me right now?_

He continued, "Suzanne and I have come to ask your blessing for us to wed. I realize that due to the circumstances, it is wrong of me to ask such a thing. In fact, I understand why you would not even consider our request, but we are so sorry for what has happened. I never meant to break your heart, Cecilia. I did not know I would fall in love with Suzanne and not you. I tried…I tried so hard to love you. Please forgive me."

Cecilia could feel the tears well up in her chest. She struggled to hold in her breath from her shallow sobs. Finally, attempting to hold in her dignity, she asked, "Could you please excuse me for a moment?"

Suzanne looked at Fredrick and nodded her approval.

Cecilia darted from the room and in the most ladylike of fashion, ran up the staircase to Erik. Erik was eavesdropping in the hallway as she reached the top of the stairs.

"Is that him?" he whispered.

"Who?" she asked attempting to pretend to not know what he was talking about.

"Cecilia, I am not an ignorant man. Is that the man who broke your heart?"

She nodded as tears began to roll down her face. Erik pulled her into him and stroked her hair.

"Cecilia, do you still love him?" he asked as he lifted her face upward to his.

"No, Erik. I don't, but he did hurt me. Whenever I see him or think of him, I am reminded how he did not want me. I am reminded of all of my fears that no one will ever want me. I am going to die a lonely old woman with only her father's possessions left to comfort her."

"No, Cecilia. You are not going to die alone."

Her piercing blue eyes became transfixed on his green ones. He seemed to be speaking to her soul with the utmost compassion and warmth.

"I never have told anyone. I feel when I am with you as though…as though I can tell you anything. Doesn't that seem strange? You are the one person in this world who I feel understands me."

Erik realized that she spoke the exact way he felt. _Maybe I could tell her the truth and everything would be alright. Maybe she could be the one to understand…_

While they stood there holding each other, Erik heard Fredrick yelling up the staircase.

"Cecilia, are you alright up there?"

Cecilia pulled away from Erik, wiped the tears off of her cheeks, and attempted to shrug off her dazed state.

"I am coming, Fredrick," she said as she made her way downstairs. As she reached the bottom and walked into the room, she could see Erik standing behind her.

Fredrick and Suzanne looked puzzled as Erik grasped Cecilia's hand and led her to her chair.

"Please pardon me Monsieur and Madamoiselle," he began with shaking Fredrick's hand and kissing Suzanne's gloved one, "I apologize it took me so long to come down. I was in the middle of composition when my dearest Cecilia told me someone was here."

Cecilia looked at Erik in shock. _What is he doing?_

"Please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Erik Fournier. I am Cecilia's fiancé."

Fredrick's face let out a large smile as Erik sat down next to Cecilia as he once again kissed her hand. She let out a sigh and whispered a quick "thank you" to Erik who's eyes were back on Fredrick.

"Cecilia, why didn't you tell me you were engaged? Congratulations! How wonderful!" Fredrick said as he stood up and kissed her hand.

"Well, my dear Fredrick, I did not want to make such a fuss since father was only laid to rest a mere week and a half ago," she said as she stood up, "Fredrick, you have my blessing. I shall write to your parents today and inform them of my decision. Now, if you do not mind, I have many errands to run today. If you could excuse me?"

"Of course! Sorry again for the intrusion. Thank you very much for understanding. Thank you for everything," Fredrick said again as he and his fiancée walked to the front door.

As Erik and Cecilia bid them their goodbyes and shut the door, Cecilia turned to Erik with a rather serious look on her face.

"Do you realize that all of France is going to know I have a mystery fiancé? Suzanne is one of the biggest gossips in all of Paris!" she said as she suddenly became frantic.

"What are we going to do?"

Erik put his hands on her shoulders and brought her body close to him. "We are not going to panic. We are going to play along as though we are a happy couple. If you so choose, we can break it off at any time, but for now, let's play along."

Cecilia realized that it probably would not be so bad. _At least those pesky older suitors would stop coming to visit. _

"Alright, dearest," she said with a sly smile, "since we are to be wed, I guess that means you are stuck going to the market with me. Go fetch your cloak."

She caught him in her trap. He rolled his eyes as he trudged up the staircase to fetch his cloak. _Good to see she is going to have a bit of fun with this._


	15. Chapter 15: Cecilia's Surprise

**DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two**

During their ride into town, Cecilia could not help but question Erik.

"I never knew your last name was Fournier," she said.

"It isn't. I do not have a last name, or at least my mother never told it to me. I used Fournier during my travels. I figured it made me more of a man to have a last name."

"I like it. It sounds very debonair."

He let out a deep laugh and held her closure to him. "You, my dear, are a odd one."

"I am not Monsieur Phantom! Of all people, you are calling me odd?"

Once Erik's horse reached the market, he slowed to a trot. As he lowered Cecilia to the ground, he held her close and whispered in her ear.

"I am going to the lair to pack a few things. Since we are now "engaged" I will stay with you as long as you wish me too. I shall be back in two hours to retrieve you," he finished as he kissed her rosy warm cheek.

"Alright…if you insist," she replied.

He smiled as he pulled his hood over his head to disguise his face. He mounted his horse and waved her goodbye.

A few hours later, Cecilia arrived back home with Erik in his new carriage and horse he had purchased.

"Look at you big spender," she laughed as she stepped out of the luxurious carriage, "I must say you have impeccable taste, but Erik…can you afford it?"

He chuckled as he watched her walk in front of the horses. "My dear, I asked every single person who ever owned the Opera Populaire to pay me wages. Do you think I ever really used them?"

She smiled at him as he steered the horses to the stable. _Finally, a man who does not want me for my money. _

As she was storing the goods she had bought earlier, Erik walked in and sat down at the kitchen table.

"So, how was your day, dear," he said as he let out a low chuckle to himself.

"It was splendid! Not only did I have three ladies congratulate me on my engagement," she said sending a sharp look toward him, "but also, I made a rather interesting purchase."

"Oh really, and what is that?"

"I bought the Opera Populaire."

Erik almost fell out of his chair. As he attempted to regain composure, he adjusted his tie and looked at her in disbelief.

"You couldn't have purchased the Opera Populaire. You are a woman. Women cannot buy property. Even if they could, can you afford it?"

"True, women cannot buy property, but after persuading the managers that my father dearly loved the opera and that the opera house would be dedicated to him they took my offer into consideration. However, when a noblewoman walked by and congratulated me on my engagement to what she referred to as "a mysterious well-traveled man who must be exceedingly rich in order to tame my charms," they asked me to sign the documents right then and there."

Erik still looked at her in disbelief. _Funny no one has asked about my mask yet._

"So, I take it Mademoiselle Suzanne neglected to inform everyone about my…rather odd, appearance?"

"I suppose that it where your "mysteriousness" comes from. Besides, she owes me a favor. She supposes that I would tell all the ladies about her philandering with the then-engaged Fredrick and expose her as a whore. I am sure she is smart enough to tell them as little as possible. Knowing her, she would tell them just enough to make herself look like the heroine. I can hear her now 'Oh yes. When she did not love Fredrick anymore, I was there to mend his broken heart. I felt sorry for the poor woman for being alone while I found such happiness. She is engaged now…' She could easily turn the situation into a battle over her."

Erik let out another chuckle. "You still have not answered my question."

"And what is that?"

"Can you afford the Opera Populaire?"

"Erik, you would be surprised what I can afford."

"And what can you afford?"

"That is none of your Phantom business," she said as she pulled a bouquet full of fresh red roses from her basket and arranged them in a crystal vase.

Later that day, Erik's belongings began to arrive as Cecilia was busy interviewing new household staff.

Erik was overseeing that the majority of his items be stored in the basement of Cecilia's grand manor. He saw to it that he would attend to them later.

Meanwhile, Cecilia finished with the interviews and was giving her new office staff a tour of her home as Erik came in to inform her that he was finished.

Quickly realizing that he did not want to embarrass Cecilia by having a strange man in her home, he leaned over and kissed her cheek in front of the office staff.

"Darling, my arrangements are completed. I shall be in the upstairs music room if you need anything," he said.

"Yes dear," she replied, "but first please do meet out new staff."

He looked at her as though she was inconveniencing him, but stood his ground per her request.

"This is Navienne," she said as she gestured to the short old woman at the foot of the stairs, "she will be our head of the house."

As she gestured to the tall lanky gentlemen in his late forties she told Erik his name was Pierre. Pierre was to be their butler. She finished introducing Erik to the new stableman, chef, maids, and gardener.

"This is my fiancé Erik," she said with a smile on her face, "this is his home now as well, and I trust you will treat him as you treat me."

Erik bowed to the company as they bowed ad curtsied back to him before ascending the stairs to the music room.

"Mademoiselle Deveraux," the young maid named Darlene asked, "why does he wear his mask?"

Cecilia could hear Navienne's "tsk tsk" as she turned to reply to Darlene.

"My fiancé is a very private man. He does not wish anyone to mingle in his affairs. He will not bother you if you do not bother him. Just know that he is a rather nice gentleman once you get to know him. Do not ask him of his affairs or anything personal."

The company nodded together and followed Cecilia for the remaining tour of the house and surrounding area.


	16. Chapter 16: Erik's Hiding Place

THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS! DRACO'S ADDICTION & PENMORA ZENITH, THANKS FOR YOUR SUGGESTIONS. YOU HAVE REALLY INSPIRED ME TO BE MORE CREATIVE WITH THIS STORY. EVERYONE ELSE, I AM OPEN TO ALL SUGGESTIONS ON HOW TO MAKE MY WRITING BETTER, PLEASE DO NOT HESITATE!

HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS CHAPTER!

**DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two**

Erik and Cecilia had a light supper before retiring to the sitting room for a nightcap and some night reading. While Erik started the fire, Cecilia was at the bookshelf searching for a book.

"Are you looking for anything in particular?" he asked.

"No, not really. I actually should go to bed. I have a big meeting tomorrow with the opera managers. I decided I am going to keep them on payroll. It will be much easier that I remain a silent owner."

Erik's eyebrow rose. _Hmmm …I guess this means I still get to torture them to my whims?_

She continued, "Besides, I have to start plans for rebuilding. Seek out a new opera, rehire the entire theater staff, find myself a new diva, and do something with that blasted chandelier that has crashed on the right side of my theater…"

She shot him another serious look.

"Yes indeed…" he joked with a guilty sound in his voice, "you really must do something about that."

She did not want to bring up any more of the past than needed. She stood up from the bookshelf and walked to the staircase.

"Goodnight Erik."

"Goodnight Cecilia. Sweet Dreams."

She smiled at him one last time before walking up the staircase.

The following morning was a busy one. Cecilia searched the entire house for Erik, but was unable to locate him.

The new house staff arrived an hour after dawn to begin their duties. Thankful to not have to continue to run a household herself, Cecilia thanked them unmercifully as she stepped into Erik's new carriage with Gaston, their new stableman, at the reigns.

Noticing that Gaston only had once horse bridled to the carriage, she came to the conclusion that Erik was still tending to matters regarding his lair.

Unbeknownst to Cecilia, Erik had arrived at the opera house well before she arrived. He wanted to spy on her during this "meeting" she was to have with Monsiuers Firmin and Andre.

He waited in the room above the manager's office which he quickly recognized had been the room of Miss Christine Daae. He looked around. It had been just as he remembered it. The two-way mirror was still in tact. Even the rose Erik had given Christine on the night of her _Hannibal_ performance was still on the vanity wrapped in a delicate black ribbon. It has only been a few weeks but it felt like eternity had passed. He had a new life now. A new life without Christine. His reminiscing was brought to a halt once he heard the sounds of Cecilia and the managers. He crouched to the floor in order to hear more clearly.

"Madamoiselle, we are very elated that you have taken such interest in our Opera Populaire. With all of the damages, we feared that this magnificent place would never be open again. Andre and I, as you probably know, invested all of our money in this place. Now, we do not have a single franc to our name," Monsieur Firmin said to Cecilia.

"I am delighted to have purchased it Monsieurs. As you know, my father was very fond of this place. I hope we can restore it to its former glory. I do hope that once the paperwork is finished you gentlemen will stay on as payroll. I will need someone to carry out my needs as I hope to seek other investment."

Erik sneered. _I cannot believe she is letting those pompous idiots stay in my opera house._

"Madamoiselle, we are your most humble servants. However, there is one little matter which must be attended to," Andre said.

"And what matter may that be Monsieur Andre?" she replied.

"According to French law, you may purchase this institution with your husband. So, I am sorry to inform you that we must put a halt on our plans until after your wedding."

"My wedding is weeks away! We need to get started on these plans as soon as possible."

"We realize this. However, we must follow the law. If the government finds out, they will close this place for good, or they will allow another buyer to come in."

"Very well, Monsieurs. How long do I have in order to set my affairs in order? Three months? A year?"

"The government shall give you no later than forty-five days in which to wed, allow your husband to sign these documents, and consent to allow you to place your name on the property."

"Why must my husband consent to allow my ownership when it is I who is investing my father's interest?"

"It is the law, Madamoiselle. We are merely messengers."

Cecilia stared at them in disbelief.

"Very well, then. You shall hear from me in less than forty-five days with a wedding invitation. Good day Monsieurs."

Erik heard Cecilia stomp out of the room and slam the door behind her. _She would have to get married? Who was she going to marry? Is she going to give up the opera house?_

Erik realized that he had to get back to her manor and quickly. Now that his most precious belongings were at Cecilia's home, Erik no longer wished to go back to the catacombs. He no longer wished to relive his painful memories.

Erik arrived shortly after Cecilia had stepped out of the carriage.

"Good afternoon darling. Where did you run off to this morning?" she said with a pretty smiling face as she walked toward his horse.

"I had some business to finalize in town. Let me put Dorian in his stable. I will meet you in the kitchen for some lunch."

"Alright. See you in a few minutes then," she finished as she walked back to the house.

As Erik walked toward the stable, he let out a deep sigh. He knew that he had to be supportive of Cecilia. He knew how much owning the opera house meant to her, and that he was the only man who would not take it away from her. He pulled out the rather large diamond and sapphire ring he had purchased in town before he came home that day. He placed the small band on the tip of his index finger and stared at it with butterflies in his stomach.

He knew he loved her. He knew that he would be miserable without her. Also, he knew that what he felt for her was not the lustful fantasy that he felt for Christine. What he felt for her was real. He wanted to wake up to her every morning and argue with her every night. He wanted her.

_She doesn't love me. She could never love me. At least, I could persuade her that this is the best scenario for her. _

He took a deep breath and walked to the manor.


	17. Chapter 17: The Secret Room

**DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two**

Cecilia was in the kitchen with Navienne discussing what dinner should be for the night. Erik could hear her talking to Jacques about what food and goods he would need to purchase in town when Gaston went to purchase new hay and materials for the horses. Jacques, a boy no older than sixteen, was Navienne's grandson whom Navienne had requested come and work with her. Cecilia being the charitable woman that she is, allowed it with the condition that he helps the others with chores and household errands.

As Jacques nodded his head in understanding to Cecilia's orders, Erik walked into the kitchen, unlaced his cloak, and handed it to Pierre.

"Merci, Pierre," he said as Pierre nodded to him. "Cecilia, may I have a word with you for a moment?"

"Of course. Navienne should you need any other spices please ask Jacques to purchase them in town. I have given him enough francs for whatever you will need," she replied as Navienne nodded in agreement.

Erik led Cecilia to the sitting room. As he opened his mouth to begin to speak, she mentioned, "Erik. There is something I have wanted to tell you."

Erik felt his heart leap in his chest. Was she going to ask him to marry her?

_No, she would never do that! She may be a stubborn and untraditional woman, but she would never beg. _

"What is it?" he said with a pretended surprise and worry in his voice.

"I received an invitation while I was staying with you. I found it in my mailbox near my front fence," she paused as she took in a deep breath, "I realize that you will be quite upset, but …"

"Cecilia, I am growing old," he claimed irritatingly, "please just tell me."

"I was invited to the Vicompt de Chagney's wedding tomorrow night. I happened to see him when I was in town this morning and he inquired whether or not my new fiancé and I would be attending. As you are aware of these circumstances, I could not say no because of his close relations with my family."

Erik sat down as he absorbed the news in which Cecilia had just given him. She walked over to his chair and crouched on the ground so her eyes were at the same level as his.

"I can go alone and claim my fiancé is ill. I know it is not proper etiquette, but I understand how it would hurt you so. I know you are trying to move on with your life, and I would not want you to be uncomfortable. I just wanted to inform you. I do not want there to be any secrets between us."

She put her hand on the unmarred side of Erik's face as one tear rolled down his cheek. She could tell that he had tried to be strong through the entire ordeal of Cecilia's injury and the startling lie he has told to Fredrick and Susanne last night. She knew he still loved Christine with all of his heart. Her heart broke to see him express such emotion in her presence.

"Erik, come with me. I have something for you," she said as she stood up with her hand grasping his. He tried to wipe his check and hide his face from her. Together, they walked up with stairs as Erik stared at the ground. They walked to the end of the hallway and turned to face the wall.

Erik looked up and saw a picture of a woman who looked a great deal like Cecilia with the exception of brown hair and green eyes.

Cecilia reached out her hand and felt underneath the frame of the picture. She took a quick look down the hall to ensure that no one had followed them or was around to see what she was doing. Erik could hear a click as the wall seemed to open inward. Cecilia gathered a candle that had been sitting on the table in the hallway, lit it, and led Erik into the unknown room behind the portrait.

The room was completely black until Cecilia placed the wick of the candle into and oil lamp near the entrance of the room. Once lit, the oil lamp seemed to feed into at least six others that had been placed on the walls throughout the large room. Erik could see the outline of the largest piano he had ever seen in his life in the middle of the room with two enormous silver candelabras each holding at least eight candles sitting on the top of it.

Cecilia walked over, lit the candelabras, and proceeded to light the fireplace in order to warm up the rather cold room. Erik could make out a large desk, and two large bookshelves full of books and compositions. His eyes scanned the room as he saw and instrument rack holding a violin, a small lap harp, a few percussion instruments, a wooden flute, and a few other instruments that he could not recognize from the distance he was.

"This was my father's composition room. No one knew about this place besides him and me. No one will ever bother you here. Anything you want in here is yours. I fear that I will never be able to do these things justice as my father did. I trust that you will care for them as if they were your own."

Erik turned to her in awe. He noticed a few tears streaming down her face as she smiled. She wiped them with her dainty handkerchief and took a deep breath.

"I wish you could have met him. He was such a good man. You two would have had a lot in common besides you know…" she said as she motioned to his mask.

She sniffled as Erik walked over to her and gathered her in his arms. He held her head close to his chest and stroked her blonde curls.

"Thank you," he whispered, "I am sure your father was a man among men. I am so sorry, Cecilia."

He held her closer now as he became aware of her attempts to regain composure. After a few moments, she took another deep breath and pulled away from him.

"Well, I must get going. I have a seamstress coming by today to fit me for the dress I ordered three weeks ago. Stay as long as you like. Dinner is at seven," she finished as she walked to the door and turned the one-way knob.

Erik stood in the room in awe of where he was. He was in the laboratory of one of the finest composers to have ever lived. He was in a room where genius and inspiration reigned supreme. He felt as though he was in heaven. He could not help but feel the guilt welling up inside of him. Her father had to die in order for Erik to stand in this room, but then again, her father had to die for Erik to meet her.

He sat down at the maple finished piano and read what was left of the Maestro's last composition. It was almost complete. Erik studied the magnificent piece and maintained the melody in his mind. Hoping to find a pattern, he attempted to complete Cecilia's father's last work.


	18. Chapter 18: The Wedding Date

**DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two**

Erik was descending the stairs when his eyes caught a glance of Cecilia standing in the ballroom atop of a large wooden box. He noticed that two of her stand up mirrors had been brought into the room and all of the drapes were opened to allow the maximum amount of light. He saw a man and an assistant pinning and sewing the ravishing chocolate and black colored dress which hung so delicately upon Cecilia's voluptuous frame.

"Madamoiselle, a lower neckline would look splendid on you. I hope you would reconsider my advice," the short older tailor noted.

"Monsieur Matthieu, I am attending a wedding in the fortnight. I cannot possibly bring more attention to myself. It is a day for the bride," she replied as she caught the sight of Erik out of the corner of her eye.

"Erik. Do you like it?" she asked as he walked toward her and the two men.

"Oh yes! Monsieur Fournier! We have heard much about you," Matthieu noted as he looked at his mask, "we have heard what a debonair and charming man you are. Is it true you have traveled all over Europe?"

_Interesting. When they think you are rich and well-traveled, they do not even question you mask. Or are they just trying to be cordial? Well, it seems as through they are not too distracted by it to inquire about me._

"Matthieu," Cecilia kindly snapped, "please do not pester him. He has yet to even consider whether or not this dress even looks remotely good on me. The raise in your pay could possibly be affected by his answer."

She flashed a devilish smile toward Erik. Immediately, she noticed Matthieu and his assistant readying the dress to be accessed by Erik.

Erik noticed her smirk. He could not believe how easily she was able to steer men to her desires. He commended her on her ability to overpower people with her money and her intellect. He found it rather amusing how these men were now desperate to hear his opinion.

"Oh yes, Monsieur. Isn't chocolate the most perfect color for her complexion? Doesn't the cut contour to her figure most stunningly? Is she not ravishing?" Matthieu noted as though attempting to persuade Erik.

Erik bit his lip as he circled around Cecilia. She had her hands folded in a ladylike manner across her stomach. He noticed that the back of her dress. The bustle of the rear seemed to perfectly accent Cecilia's ample derriere. He did feel though that the train should be a bit longer. As he finished his assessment, his hands skimmed the exquisite fabric, and his eyes could not help but transfix on the apex of her outward corset. He almost felt like drooling over her expectant breaths which made her plump breasts rise and fall with a taunting manner.

As Matthieu placed the headpiece atop of Cecilia's head, Erik could not help but sigh and bask in her beauty. Truly, this dress was indeed made for her.

Erik, however, was not going to give Matthieu and his assistant complete praise and satisfaction.

"I feel that the design is splendid, however, I question whether or not you are going to complete the train. A woman with such beauty as she should have such a grand train following behind her. She is, after all, the princess of modern composition."

"Of course, Monsieur. I was just telling Francois how this dress needed such detail. It shall be done!" Matthieu said as he clapped his hands in the air prompting Francois to measure the existing train.

"Excellent," Erik replied, "other than that, I would say, Cecilia is, in a word, stunning in this dress."

He could see her blush as Matthieu and Francois went back to doting on her. Erik could tell that his blessing prompted the men to not only respect him more than previously, but Cecilia seemed to immediately glow with delight.

"I fear I have already taken up too much of your valuable time, Monsieur's. I bid you good day," Erik said as he shook the tailors' hands, "My dear, when you are finished, I pray that you will indulge me with a bit of conversation before dinner."

"Of course. I shall come as soon as my dress is finished," Cecilia replied.

Erik nodded at her and walked out of the room.

Cecilia met Erik about an hour later in the sitting room. He had been reading what appeared to be a philosophy journal.

"You wanted to speak with me?" she said as she sat in the chair across from him.

"Oh," he said as he looked up from his book, "how is the dress?"

"It is perfect. I love it so much I am going to have him come back next week to prepare one for Christmas. I do hope he can have it done in time," she noted realizing that Christmas was only two weeks away.

"I am sure he will. Do not worry yourself. However, I did want to tell you that I would very much like to join you at the wedding tomorrow night. I assure you that I will be alright. I do not wish you to have to attend such an event alone."

"Erik, you do not have to. I would love you to, but I promise it is not required."

"No, I want to go. Besides, I need to, as you say, break out of my shell."

"What if you are recognized?"

"I am going to have a new mask made in town which is of a different style of my current one. I will also purchase a new top hat in order to better hide my appearance. I assure you, if people know I am wealthy and from another county, they will not even question me. I am sure we can come up with a story."

"But, I thought you did not like to be around people?"

"Most of the audience members of the Opera Populaire can barely make out the faces of the actors on stage. I am sure I will be quite alright. As far as people are concerned, I am not completely settled on that matter right now. However, I am currently open to new ideas."

"Are you certain about this, Erik? I do not want you to compromise your beliefs for me."

"You have saved my life, Cecilia, in more ways than one. The least I can do is attend a wedding with you."

Cecilia smiled and rose to her feet. Erik rose to his at the same time. She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Thank you so much for doing this for me," she said as he held her.

He realized at that moment how much this event meant to her. He realized that finally people would stop talking about her behind her back about her relationship with Fredrick. That people would finally except her back into society. Although Cecilia was a strong woman, Erik knew she longed to be around people again.

He lifted her chin with his hand and kissed her forehead as she closed her pretty blue eyes.

"Come. Shall we take a walk before dinner?" he asked.

"I would like that. Very much," she replied.

Erik strolled with her over to the closet and retrieved her winter cloak. As he placed it on her, she placed her hand on his shoulder and kissed his cheek. He smiled, tied his cloak, and led her outside.


	19. Chapter 19: Here Comes the Bride

**DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two**

Erik had returned from his day of shopping when he saw Pierre running out to the stables to help him with his packages.

"Monsieur. I am so glad you are home. Madamoiselle Cecilia is frantic!" the old man said as he gathered Erik's boxes from the rear of the saddle.

"What could possibly have gone wrong?" Erik questioned as he noticed the tailor's carriage adjacent to the stables.

Erik's eyes rolled as he walked with Pierre back to the manor. He quickly came to the realization that this wedding tonight had Cecilia in a rut. True, it was her first society debut as an engaged woman, but Erik felt that she seemed to have other ulterior motives.

Erik prepared himself for whatever Cecilia could unleash upon him. He walked into the ballroom once again to see Matthieu frantically sewing sleeves onto her dress.

"I have returned," Erik said as he saw Cecilia's eyes widen.

She jumped off of the box, accidentally knocked Matthieu and Francois over, and scurried over to Erik.

"Erik. I am so glad you are here. My sleeves ripped off of my dress, and I have had no chance to make arrangements for us tonight. I have not bought a wedding gift for the happy couple. I had no clue what you were wearing tonight! And…"

Erik placed his hands on her shoulders and let out a deep breath.

"It will be alright. I will send Jacques to fetch a marvelous gift for the happy couple. I will make our arrangements tonight. I assure you that you will be more than thrilled with my clothing selection for this evening, and I will have Navienne make you a cup of tea to calm your nerves. I will take care of everything," Erik said as his green eyes met her blue ones.

He opened his jacket and withdrew a breathtaking red rose. As he withdrew the fragile flower he held it up to Cecilia's nose.

The scent of the pretty flower immediately calmed her as he placed it into her trembling hands. He kissed her forehead once again, smiled, and walked out of the room.

Cecilia was suddenly embarrassed of herself. She was fretting when Erik seemed to be so withdrawn. She could only imagine what was going through Erik's head. Was he angry with her for being so immature? Was he scared about going into society tonight? Was he nervous about seeing Christine again?

She watched him as he walked out of the room. She envied his composure. She was so used to having to always be the strong one in her family. Now that her father was gone, she no longer had to ensure her composure to keep from upsetting him. She felt guilty for feeling a bit relieved of her loss.

Erik and Cecilia barely spoke more than idle chit-chat about the weather on their way to the church. Cecilia held his hand the entire way. Whether she held it out of support or fear that he would abandon her, she did not know.

The carriage pulled up to the glistening cathedral which housed hundreds of iridescent stain glass windows bearing the images of the Virgin Mary and the baby Christ. Erik, who had little knowledge about religion, felt a bit uneasy as he stepped out of the carriage extending his arm to aid Cecilia. She placed a comforting gloved hand on his back and rubbed him a bit.

"It will be alright. We can sit in the back," she whispered into his ear as he nodded for Gaston to pull away.

They were greeted by the groom's parents as the crossed the threshold through the heavy glass doors of God's house.

"Madamoiselle Deveraux! How wonderful of you to join us on this most….blessed day!" the Vicompt's mother said with a rather mournful tone.

Cecilia could instantly tell that the Vicompt's family did not approve of the marriage. This family was obsessed with proper breeding. Cecilia understood why they would act so cold on this day. Christine was no more than a commoner. She was the daughter of a musician and an entertainer. Most women in such positions had difficulty finding any sort of suitor with limited proper bloodlines let alone have the opportunity to marry a man of the Vicompt's stature.

"It is so wonderful to see you," Cecilia replied, "This is my fiancé Erik. We are elated that you chose to invite us to celebrate such a joyous occasion with you and your family."

Erik received the old woman's hand and kissed it. His striking green eyes looked up at her through his mask which seemed to send a chill through her body.

Before she was able to gasp, he said, "Enchanted to make your acquaintance, Madame. I daresay you do not look remotely old enough to have a son of marrying age."

He shot her a smooth and sensual smile as she immediately seemed to blush.

"I have heard of your proper breeding Monsieur. I suspect that you shall be a good match for Mademoiselle Deveraux," she said completely smittened and delighted at Erik's presence.

"Merci, Madame. However, I fear it is I who is the fortunate one."

The old woman smiled as she called for an usher to escort Erik and Cecilia to their seats. Cecilia stood in astonishment that Erik not only seemed to be so comfortable around other people, but also seemed to be alarmingly charming.

"I cannot believe what I just saw," she whispered as Erik helped her unlace her matching chocolate colored cloak.

"What did you just see?" he asked as he looked around to see if anything was out of the ordinary.

"No, Erik. I cannot believe I just saw Raoul's mother blush, and with her hand in yours no less. She is one of the most ill-tempered of women in high society. She barely likes women let alone men."

"She seemed rather nice to me," Erik replied with a proud smile.

_This is going to be easier than I thought. _

Erik was extremely pleased with himself. Yet, he felt as though he was severely out of place. Butterflies were fluttering in his stomach as he thought of seeing Christine once again. He was also doing his best to not completely abandon Cecilia and run out of the church to the new sanctuary of her father's composition room.

He began to remember the fateful night when Christine denied his love and chose the Vicompt. Erik could not help but wonder if he had the strength to make her his prisoner. He could not help but wish he had the strength to murder her lover before her very eyes. No matter how much he thought he loved her, he could not bear to see her in so much pain.

Erik realized that Christine was his weakness. He had been so strong with Cecilia. He had not completely lost composure. He had not yet broke down and confessed all of his sins to her. Yet, he wondered what he truly felt for Cecilia.

Christine had been his obsession. He lived and breathed her climb to glory. He loved her beauty and her enchanting voice, but he could not help but wonder whether or not he loved her. Christine never talked with him as Cecilia did. Cecilia was real. She did not see him as an Angel of Music, and he did not see her as a pupil. Cecilia saw him as a man. Just a man. Erik, for the first time, felt like he belonged.

"Erik, are you alright?" Cecilia said as she placed her hand on his.

She could tell she had startled him from some sort of daydream.

"I am fine. I am quite alright. Look they are staring," he replied as his eyes turned forward.

Cecilia sensed a bit of uneasiness in his voice. His muscles began to tense up and he desperately attempted to control his breathing and his thoughts.

His eyes studied the remaining people finding their seats, and the Vicompt walking towards the podium in front of the priest. Erik found Madame and Meg Giry sitting two rows from the front on what was supposed to be designated as the bride's side. Erik recognized a few members of the ballet chorus and even the allusive Carlotta sitting in the pews.

_I am sure she is here to attempt to find some young man. _

At last, the bridal chorus began to play as three or four young women marched down the flower-laden aisle. As the music changed into a march, Erik's heart ached as he caught a glimpse of Christine. She was more stunning than he had ever imagined. Her silky white wedding dress was so much more exquisite than the one he has bought for her when he stilled lived below the opera. She carried a bouquet of winter white roses with crimson ribbon cascading down her lily white hands.

His heart broke as he watched her hand meet the Vicompt's outstretched one. He longed to have the same relationship with a woman. To have her smile as Christine was smiling at Raoul with such admiration and devotion. Erik recalled the night in which Cecilia had come to his bed so willingly. He wanted more than anything else in the world to know if she had truly wanted him.

He felt so confused. He understood that any hope for winning Christine back was diminished as soon as he watched the happy couple kiss. He knew he would always love Christine. He knew that he would always long for her to renounce her love for the Vicompt and come running back to him. He knew better. He knew that he could no longer tempt with fate. He was done with his former life of death and pain. The question was, what was he now going to do with his life?

What Erik did not realize was that Cecilia was not watching the wedding at all. Her eyes were transfixed on Erik observing his hurt expression and obvious grief. She understood that she should have never brought him there. She thought that he had gotten over her somehow. She had hoped and prayed to God that he would somehow someway long to be hers.

She knew that she could not tell him about what happened during her meeting with the opera managers. She could not force him into any sort of marriage knowing that he still loved Christine. She would have to give up her and her father's dreams of owning their own opera house. She empathized that the man sitting next to her. The man she loved, did not love her.

She felt tears well up in her eyes. Erik heard her sniffle and turned his face toward her.

"Cecilia, are you alright?" he asked.

"I am fine, Erik. I always cry at weddings," she replied as her tears began to flow more freely.


	20. Chapter 20: Mrs de Chagney

**DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two**

Erik and Cecilia stood up as the happy couple made their way down the aisle towards their six-horse carriage waiting outside. Cecilia wiped a remaining tear from her cheek and began to clap with the rest of the guests. Erik kept his head down as Christine brushed by him.

He was not ready for her to see him yet. For all he knew, she still thought he was dead. He would wait until the opportune time to reveal himself to her. The reception was just one of those times.

Erik escorted Cecilia to their carriage and informed Gaston to follow the wedding party to the Vicompt's home. The snow had begun to fall as the sun had completely set for the night. The white moon shone its brilliance inside of the carriage as Cecilia fidgeted with her gloves.

She grew more uncomfortable with each passing moment. She would not help but allow her thoughts to haunt her. She was haunted by thoughts filled with sadness and hopelessness. Erik seemed to be off in his own world too. She noticed he was deep in contemplation, and preferred to not stir up such a silent moment.

Upon their arrival to the Vicompt's home, they were greeted warmly by the Vicompt's mother who was now completely enamored with Erik. Once they removed their cloaks and gloves, Erik pulled Cecilia close, kissed her square on the lips, and whispered in her ear.

"I will be back momentarily. Why don't you go and enjoy the party? Go and bid congratulations to the Vicompt," she nodded completely ignorant of his plan.

Erik let out a devilish smile as he walked toward the rear of the ballroom. His plan was simple. Allow Cecilia to charm Raoul with her wit and intellect, maybe even reminisce about old times, and while Christine drifted off to the back of the ballroom, he would whisk her into a private room for some chit-chat.

He barely reached the orchestra when he noticed Cecilia curtsying to the Vicompt. As he watched Raoul lift her hand to his lips, Erik's eyes scanned the room for Christine. He noticed her hugging Meg and politely excusing herself. She made her way to the rear of the house.

_This is my chance. _

He followed her down a long dark hallway to which, he believed, must have been her room while she was staying with the Vicompt's family. She sat down at her vanity and let out a sigh of relief. Erik noticed, however, that she had the biggest smile on her face. She appeared to be glowing with joy. Erik had never remembered seeing her so happy, but he knew he had to do this. He had to know the truth.

"You always did look stunning in white," Erik said as Christine spun around to look at him.

"Oh mon Dieu! I thought you were dead," she exclaimed as she lept from her chair and hugged him, "I am so happy you are alive!"

"Did you really think they would catch me or even have the chance to lay a finger on me?"

She looked at him in surprise. Her eyes studied his face. His mask was different and his eyes seemed to be different as well. His eyes no longer appeared to be filled with such anger and rage. His touch was soft and gentile. In the past he would possess her and overpower her, but now he seemed to be sensitive and withdrawn. His lustful nature seemed to have faded away.

"Erik, there is something different about you," she whispered as she broke their embrace. She walked over to her vanity and began to remove her gloves.

"What do you mean?" he questioned as he sat upon her bed. He had realized that a few weeks ago he would have sold his soul to the devil to have just one chance to be this close to her again. For some reason now, he felt confused.

"I do not know. Your demeanor is different. Your eyes are no longer filled with hatred, and you are no longer trying to devour me with one single touch of my skin. You just seem, different," she finished as she turned towards him again.

"I need to ask you something, and I want you to tell me the truth," he gathered her hand in his and began to rub his smooth hands over her silky white skin.

His green eyes found her large brown ones and fixed their gaze.

"Was there any moment, even for a second, that you loved me at all?" he asked as he brushed a brown curl from her face.

"Erik, I have loved you for years. I love you still," she said as Erik's eyes widened, "but Erik, I am not, no have I ever been, in love with you."

Her hand caressed his cheek on the bare side of his face, as she spoke once more, "You have been everything to me. You are…like a father to me. I am so sorry, Erik."

Erik had tears filling his eyes once again. He leaned over and kissed her forehead as he began to speak once more.

"I had hoped that you would have told me otherwise. You know I am not a man who is eager to express his feelings, least of all to women. I had hoped that you would have been able to look beyond my façade, be it my mask or my demeanor. Christine, I apologize. I did not come here tonight to put a damper on your special day."

"Erik, I cannot help it that Raoul holds my heart. I have seen beyond your façade and into your soul. Would I even be sitting her talking to you if I hadn't? I would be screaming for someone in fear of being left alone with you. In all seriousness, I had hoped you would come here tonight."

"Why is that?"

"I need to hear something from you. I know that you love me, and I know your hatred for Raoul. You are the closest thing to family I have left in this world besides the Girys. I need you to give me your blessing. I need to know that you will still love me, even if it is just as a friend, if I continue on with this marriage."

Erik sat there in awe. He almost did not understand what she was asking, but he suddenly realized that he wanted nothing more than for her to be happy. He had to let her go, and move on with his life. He knew she loved Raoul. He knew it the moment she kissed him to save Raoul's life.

"You know not what you ask of me."

"Yes, I do. Erik, I am not a little girl anymore. I need to know that you will give me your blessing, especially when I hear that your fiancée is going to purchase the theater in which I wish to someday return to."

"What? How did you know…"

"Well, I heard that Madamoiselle Deveraux was buying the opera house, and Fredrick informed me that she had taken a new suitor. A certain mysterious and well traveled man with the first name of Erik. Then, you come walking into my room. I can put two and two together."

"It is more complicated than that…"

"I am sure it is, knowing you. However, I have a party to return to, and you have a lovely young heiress who I am sure is missing you. I will give you some time to think about it. You know where to find me. Shall we?"

Erik stood up and admired Christine's intelligence. He knew that he had to let her go, and he had to return to Cecilia.

"Christine," he began as they reached the end of the hallway and parted to go their separate ways, "you…you have my blessing. I hope that you will be happy together."

Christine ran to him and wrapped her arms around him and kissed him.

"Thank you so much, Erik. Thank you!" she exclaimed as the color in Erik's face started to fade.

Christine turned around to see Cecilia standing in the hallway in complete shock. Her piercing blue eyes seemed to turn gray as the color from her face too drained. She was hardly breathing. As Erik released Christine and walked toward Cecilia, she let out a gasp, clenched her fists together, and started walking to the front door. Erik quickly reached Cecilia and walked with her side by side.

"Erik, we shall discuss this later. Now is not the time," she said as she walked out of the front door.

Erik paused for a moment and watched her walk out of the door. As his heart seemed to break once more, he felt a masculine hand violently grasp his shoulder.


	21. Chapter 21: Confrontation

**DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two**

"How dare you show your face here?" the mystery man whispered in a low growl, "come with me."

Erik knew the voice very well. Not wishing to make a scene, the two men faced each other and smiled. Raoul gestured Erik to follow him, and the two men walked to the library.

Raoul closed the large wooden doors. Erik was standing in the middle of the room gazing at the thousands of books piled on the shelves.

"How interesting Monsieur, I never would have expected that you actually knew how to read," Erik said with a sarcastic tone.

Erik knew that Raoul was angry enough, but he had to push the limits. After all, Erik was no afraid of him. In fact, Erik grew more and more agitated by the minute as Raoul's face began to turn bright red.

"I will not let you take her from me. She made her choice!" Raoul shouted.

Erik looked at him rather amused as he heard the distance hum of the orchestra. He wanted to chuckle at Raoul's rather chivalrous demeanor. It would be so easy for Erik to get what he wanted at that moment. His Punjab lasso sat safely in his jacket pocket. All he would have to do is string up the sensitive and fair Vicompt and hang him to dry like an ordinary piece of laundry. Erik knew though, deep down inside, that he did not have the heart to hurt Christine again. Not when he knew the truth behind the feelings she harbored for the Vicompt.

"Do you find me to be an idiot, Monsieur Vicompt?" Erik inquired as he approached Raoul who was now trembling under the powerful malevolent eyes of Erik.

Erik was impressed that Raoul was holding his ground. Erik had always thought of the Vicompt, and most men of upper status, to be overly sensitive and finicky. In fact, he found that many of them acted a great deal like their spoiled wives and daughters. The mere thought of the Vicompt acting like an equal to Erik made him instantly chuckle with sheer delight.

"Do you really think I came here tonight to steal away your precious wife? Have you not pondered that if I were to indeed take her completely from you, I would have done so before you said your vows? Or, do you not realize that I could have killed you already and stolen your bride before you even had a chance to figure out that I was even in attendance?"

Raoul's face was stone-like and silent. Besides the hum of the orchestra, the room was completely silent. Erik walked closer to Raoul and withdrew his Punjab lasso.

"So, you are going to kill me now?" Raoul questioned as he drew his sword and pointed it square between Erik's eyes.

"No, Monsieur. I am merely withdrawing my weapon. I wish to speak with you as a gentleman, not as a foe. Trust me, if it was my choice I would fight you right here and kill you before anyone out there knows we are missing. However, as a man in love with your wife, I shall hold back my transgressions and explain to you why I have indeed come here this night."

Raoul kept his weapon steady as Erik sat down in a chair and removed his top hat. Erik handed his Punjab lasso to Raoul, and once Raoul placed it into the rubbish bin, he too sat down.

"I am told that you have close relations with Madamoiselle Deveraux," Erik began.

"She is like a cousin to me. In fact, she was engaged to be married to my cousin. We speak often."

"Then I am sure you have been told that she has taken a suitor."

"Yes, however, she has not indulged me with enough information to know who this man is."

"I am her suitor."

Raoul grew angry once again and exclaimed, "What is the meaning of this? Are you trying to kidnap her as you did Christine? Have you seduced her with your demonic ways in order to take from her what you can only hope to take form Christine?"

"Monsieur. I have done nothing of the sort. I have treated Madamoiselle Deveraux with respect and kindness. She is the only reason I am here tonight. I did, however, speak with your lovely wife and gave your union my blessing. While Christine and I were walking back to the party, Madamoiselle Deveraux saw us together, and I am sure inferred that I had somehow won back Christine's affections. When you stopped me at your front door, I was in pursuit of Madamoiselle Deveraux to tell her the truth."

Erik stood up, gathered his hat, and buttoned his jacket.

"Now, Monsieur Vicompt, if you shall excuse me, I have a beautiful woman to run after, and you have a lovely wife which is in need of her first dance as a married woman."

Erik and Raoul walked toward the front door. Erik turned around once more to face Raoul before he left.

"I did ask your wife if she loved me. I had hoped that she did, but alas, she claimed her heart belonged to you. I wanted to take her away with me. However, I am only a mortal and it is not my power to toy with love. Please take care of her, and let her sing. For you to deny her the one thing that makes her happy, you will be no better than me. Christine is not a bird that can be caged, and I know that she would make a fine addition to the new Opera Populaire. Au revior, Monsieur."

Erik closed the door as Raoul stood there for a moment absorbing what he had just said. With a smile creeping to his face, he turned and spotted his wife. He rushed over to her and passionately kissed her in the middle of the room.

Erik walked into the snowy night and happened to catch a glimpse at his horse standing with a small boy near the stables. Erik knew what a good woman Cecilia was. He knew that no matter what horrible things he did, she would always still ensure his safety.

He flipped a franc to the small boy in the stables, mounted his horse, and galloped to Cecilia's manor. He arrived just as the snow had stopped falling. After securing his horse in the stables, he walked back to the manor. Just as he reached the door, Pierre popped his bearded head out of the downstairs window.

"Monsieur Fournier. Please stay there, I will be down in a moment," he said as Erik watched him rush out of the room.

Erik grew agitated that he would have to wait in the cold, but nonetheless knew that it had something to do with the events which had transpired at the wedding.

"Madamoiselle Deveraux requests that you not enter the manor tonight sir. She has ordered me to prepare the guest house in the back of the property for you to stay tonight. She asks me to tell you that there is a piano there, and that if you should require anything, just ask me."

Erik's heart broke once more as he realized that Cecilia no longer wished him to be in her home. He found her to be quite charitable though to allow him to live in her guest house. Attempting to hold back his tears, he nodded at Pierre and walked to the small cottage in the back of the property.


	22. Chapter 22: Cecilia's Request

**DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two**

"Tomorrow is Christmas Eve," Erik said as he finished his most recent composition. He had spent many long days in the small cottage on Cecilia's property thinking only of what an idiot he had been. He longed to sneak into the manor and tell Cecilia the truth, but he did not want to upset her. He knew she was not an ignorant woman. He knew Cecilia understood that Erik still had feelings for Christine, some feelings that would never go away.

However, Erik often pondered, during those long and lonely days, on his feelings toward Cecilia. He missed hearing her voice downstairs every morning explaining to the servants their daily chores. He missed her sweet angelic face smiling back at him when he played for her. Most of all, he missed talking to her. He had taken her for granted. He realized this the second day he spent away from her. She had been the only person he could talk to, and he had come to trust her enough to tell her about his dark past. He had intended to tell her after the wedding. He did not wish to spoil her night, and he selfishly wanted to hang onto their relationship as long as possible if for some chance she rejected him.

He kept his distance from her. He respected her decision and was patient enough to wait for her to want to see him again. He would wait forever if he needed to. He realized through those long and tedious days that he loved Cecilia.

He tortured himself endlessly with his selfishness and stupidity. He knew that Christine was nothing more than infatuation. He had come to realize that he loved her for all of the wrong reasons. She was the first person to treat him as a man. She sang like an angel. She was beautiful, and most of all, she had surrendered herself to him during their lessons and that fateful kiss. He noticed, however, that he loved Cecilia for all the right reasons. He loved to talk to her. He loved her aspirations, and most of all, he loved her strength. She was so much stronger than he was.

Cecilia would have thought he'd have died if it wasn't for Navienne nagging and forcing him to eat when she would make her daily trips out to the cottage. Erik heard a knock at the door. He set down his quill and stood up.

"Navienne, I am not hungry. Could you please just leave me alone for five minutes?" he yelled as the knocking grew louder.

Agitated, he walked to the door and flung it open. Jacques stood at his doorstep on the rather chilly morning chattering his teeth.

"Monsieur," he said with his newly deepened voice, "the Mistress requested I bring this to you."

Erik snatched the letter out of the boy's hands as he motioned for him to leave. He closed the door and walked in to the living room. As he placed another log on the fire, he sat down in a chair nestled in the middle of the room. Erik took a deep breath as he opened the letter.

_Erik,_

_I apologize for my behavior these last few weeks. I need to speak with you about something important. Would you please join me for breakfast? The staff is going to town in order to prepare for the Christmas Ball I am having tomorrow night, so we will be alone._

_I am not angry with you. Please forgive my rudeness._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Cecilia_

Erik had a puzzled look on his face as he folded up the letter. He arose with a start and dashed to tidy himself. Breakfast, he was sure, would be very soon.


	23. Chapter 23: The Proposal

**DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two**

The time had come. Cecilia had been dreading this moment for the last few days. She knew she had to do it. She could not allow any more unsettling nights pass by. She knew that if she did not ask him now, she would never be able to ask.

She had to do it for her father. He had not been blessed with a son to pass along his name; a son who could forever give him the immortality that a daughter never could.

Erik was the only probable solution. She knew in her heart that he was not only the only man she would ever love, but also the only man who would let her do whatever she wanted. He was one of the few who was not petrified of her manner and was content to allow her to speak her mind no matter how against society's rules the action was.

In spite of this, she knew the truth. She knew that Erik would forever be in love with Christine. She knew deep in her heart that this fact would never change. In fact, that notion was the entire reason she did not want to ask Erik. Cecilia had always been a romantic. She had aspirations of a fancy wedding, a loving husband, moonlight walks, and bouncing chubby children running through the countryside.

She wanted the opera house more. She wanted to feel like she had made an impact on the world. She wanted to do something that no other woman of her time was allowed to do. She had endless dreams in her youth of sitting in the audience and listening to the rehearsals. She recalled watching the pretty ballerinas dance across the stage and the decadent costumes in their finishing stages. She wanted more than to be a spectator. She wanted to be involved.

_But, how can I tell Erik? How can I tell him that this is my dream? That I will live in a loveless marriage for the rest of my days in order to have this one thing. The one thing that only a man can give me. Would he understand? Would he be offended? _

Her heart was breaking just at the thought of it. Sure, she would allow him freedom. He could come and go as he pleased. He could once again terrorize the opera if he wanted. She swallowed and thought about the repercussions of a loveless marriage in his eyes. She knew that she could never let him take a lover. The thought of it drove her completely insane. Cecilia, being somewhat of a jealous woman, could never willingly allow such a thing.

_Christine is gone and married. Does that mean that they will no longer see each other? He has not gone to her or written to her since the wedding. Has he moved on? Could he learn to love me?_

Her head began to ache with all of her scattered thoughts. She tried to persuade herself that this was the best solution. People of royal blood have arranged marriages all the time and live the rest of their lives completely happy. She could easily do the same. She was of sound mind. She knew the rules of the game. The only problem was, convincing her heart.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. _You can do this._

"Erik, there is something I need to ask you," she started.

Erik felt a bit uncomfortable at her statement. Fearing that she was going to inquire about his past or even the other night with Christine, he had no idea what to say.

"I can explain…" Erik began.

"What?" she asked shooting him a puzzled look. She quickly understood what event he was referring to and changed her visage.

"No, it has nothing to do with her. I need you to… to…."

"What is it?"

"You know that I want to purchase the opera house. I want to refurbish it and restore it to its glory."

"Yes, I am aware of such. I know what you are going to ask me."

"What are you talking about?"

"You said you want no secrets between us, right? Well, I was there that day in the opera house. I listened in on your meeting with the managers. I know what you are going to ask me."

"But, Erik…I…"

"No. You have no need to go any further. I was the one who told your ex-fiance that we were engaged. It is because of me that the managers are aware of your potential marriage, and it was this reason alone that they not only allow you to give a down payment, but also attempt to shatter your dreams by telling you that you can never have it without a husband."

"Erik, I know it is so much to ask, but…"

"Cecilia. It is already settled," Erik said with a smile, "Is it such a bad thing my dear? We both get what we want."

_If she only knew, how sorry I am. If she only knew, that I think I love her. She cannot know. Not now. Not after what happened the other night. It will ruin everything._

"Just think about it," he began again, "I will have a pretty wife, plenty of room and time to compose, and I get to terrorize the opera house again. You get your opera house. I will sign whatever you need me to in order to get it in your name."

"Erik, you would really marry me? You would give up everything?"

"Well, I am not giving up everything. I mean… you will still get a few little notes from me here and there. I expect to have Box 5 left open for my personal use … and…."

Erik noticed that Cecilia seemed to be joyful and saddened by his sarcasm. He realized that he must have deeply hurt her for her to be so blatantly unhappy about their situation. Erik did not know what to say to her. He did not have the proper words to tell her how sorry he was.

_How could she love me? She doesn't know me. She does not know what a murderous monster I really am. She would never…ever love me if she knew. _

He held her in his arms and remembered the night she came to him. She knew even then about his love for Christine. He still felt guilty about the poison. Yet, he could not help but wonder if somehow or someway, she had been trying to tell him something. He still did not understand why it was that she masqueraded as Christine. Women in the past had never reacted to the potion this way. Usually they were merely zombies. They were slaves to their passions, but Cecilia was different. She seemed in control…somehow.

"and… Cecilia, will you be my wife?" he said as he once again lifted her chin up to the level of his neck.

She looked at him, sighed, and smiled. _What am I getting myself into?_

"Yes, Erik. I will."

She embraced him once again as if to allow herself some assurance that everything would be alright. She tried to put it out of her mind and tell herself that this was merely a business arrangement. She would have to fight to place her emotions aside. She must put her emotions aside.

_The only thing that matters is the opera house. The rest will be alright. We will be alright. _

At that moment, there was a knock at the door. Matthieu was punctual as always. Cecilia suddenly remembered that there was a party to tend to for tomorrow night.


	24. Chapter 24: When the Evening Falls

**DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two**

Cecilia awoke the following morning with unsettling dreams. She did not know whether or not to worry about the party tonight or the fact that she was now getting married to a man that loves another woman. She tortured herself with the notion the entire night, until she decided not to pursue it any longer.

Her clock struck the hour of five when she reached the bottom of her staircase. She clutched her robe tightly against her from the cold of the house. She walked over to the storage area where the wood was usually kept. Empty. She tried at least three other rooms and came to the notion that she would just have to put on some warm clothes and run out to the barn where another supply was. She sighed deep as her teeth chattered.

She just could not win this week. She turned to walk back up the stairs when she heard the back door open and close. She wondered if it was Erik. She had allowed him back in the house after their agreement last night. She has even ensured that Navienne and Darlene change and wash his bedding and hang some of his tapestries that were in the basement.

She held more tightly to her rope as she heard footsteps coming toward her. Then, through the darkness of the room, she saw a shadowy figure. His tall and lanky form was easily recognizable. His hair had been uncharacteristically disheveled and his mask seemed ajar.

"I am surprised to see you up this early, darling," the man said in a smooth, silky rasp.

"And vice versa. Is your room not comfortable?" she replied.

"My fire went out. I went looking for more wood, but I noticed you were fresh out. So, I went out to the barn, but Gaston did not finish cutting it down. I have been out there for an hour."

She walked over to him and felt the good side of his face. His skin was cold, and he had non-emotional tears in his eyes from the wind outside.

"Sit down, Erik. I will be right back."

Erik made a fire in the sitting room and removed his cloak. Then, as Cecilia was returning to the room, he settled in the large arm chair which he had moved in front of the fireplace.

Cecilia was carrying a cup and a large wholly blanket. She set the sweet smelling concoction on the table beside Erik's left elbow and fetched a nearby ottoman.

"Remove your shoes please Erik, and your pants."

Erik looked up at her. She appeared to be quite serious in the light of the fireplace. She held the blanket out in front of her as if she was a matador. Erik grew more puzzled.

"Your pants are soaking wet. You will catch a cold if they remain on you. Besides, there is no one else in the house, and I am, after all, your betrothed. Fine, I won't look," Cecilia finished as she turned and faced the fireplace.

Her hand holding the heavy blanket moved toward her rear. Erik felt a bit uncomfortable about this whole situation, but nonetheless, he knew better than to argue with Cecilia especially when she seemed to have his well-being in mind.

After removing his shoes, pants, and jacket, Erik remained only in his white shirt which was also completely soaking wet. Realizing this notion, he figured he may as well remove it as well. He gathered the large wholly blanket, sat back in his chair, and wrapped it around his now trembling body.

"Thank you," he said once he was sitting and comfortable.

She turned back around to her chair next to his and sat down.

"You are welcome," she replied with a smile.

She looked at him in silence for a few moments. He seemed to be a little uncomfortable in her presence. She noticed that his mask had been properly replaced as well.

"Erik," she began, "you know that you needn't wear your mask in my presence."

Erik looked down at the blanket at her words. He was speechless, yet a bit agitated by her statement. Didn't she know that he was a monster? Isn't she afraid of his face like all of the others?

As if she had heard his thoughts, she said, "I have seen you without it before. You know that you will never be deformed to me, Erik. I am not afraid or remotely repulsed by you."

She leaned over toward his chair and placed her hand on his exposed cheek. Her other hand moved to his mask and gently touched it. He flinched from her grasp, but seemed to warm to her touch. She softly removed the porcelain article and cast it beside on the adjoining table. Her graceful fingers gently caressed his marred skin as she held his head to her breast. Her free hand stroked his disheveled black hair as she held him tightly.

She could not help but be filled with emotion. She was fragile as she held the man she loved. She wanted so much just to tell him how she felt. Tell him that they could put Christine behind them and start their life together fresh and new. She quickly awoke herself from the moment, and realized that the servants would be there soon. She needed to dress and was sure that Erik had wanted to refresh as well.

"Erik," she whispered, "Navienne and Pierre will be here soon. I will take your clothes to the laundry room. You can go upstairs if you like."

She sat up and handed him back his mask. As he held the porcelain thing in his hands, she leaned over and kissed his marred cheek with his clothing in her arms. She walked out of the room while Erik reflected upon her kiss. No one had ever looked at his flesh without repulsion. Yet, here he was standing in the sitting room of a woman who accepted him.

Erik returned downstairs to find Cecilia decorating a large Christmas tree which had been moved into the back of the ballroom by Gaston and Jacques the day before. Cecilia, surrounded in boxes of ornaments, garlands, and candles, was alone in her endeavor. Erik heard Navienne in the kitchen making breakfast, Pierre was most likely seeing to finishing touches on the outside Christmas decorations with Jacques, Darlene and the other maids were busy cleaning the house for the party tonight, and Gaston was most likely finding more firewood.

Erik's gaze fell back on Cecilia. She was radiant in his eyes. He watched as she would carefully remove a round metallic ornament, search for an appropriate spot on the tree, and gently place it on the branch. Erik watched her do this routine a few times before she turned to him.

"Do you really think I did not see you?" she asked with light-hearted fervor, "why don't you get your handsome self over here and help me trim this tree."

Erik did not hesitate for a second. He knew what this party meant to her. The opera managers would be here as would all of the opera staff hoping to beg for their jobs back. He knew that tonight was not only a night of celebration, but also a night of business dealings. Even more, he knew that Christine would be here tonight.

"Matthieu, please stay for the party. The guests will be arriving any moment. Besides, who will I instruct them to come to if so many of the young ladies adore my gown?" Cecilia insisted as an already well dressed Matthieu attempted to leave.

"Madamoiselle, it would be an honor. However, I do plea, allow me to return to my home not far from here and I shall return in more suitable attire."

"Of course. I will see you soon then," Cecilia finished as Matthieu took one last bow and disappeared into the night.

She had not seen Erik since they finished the Christmas tree. Even as she was wrapping her Christmas presents for her guests and servants, he was no where to be found. It was almost seven.

Pierre walked up to her as she stood in the hallway and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Madamoiselle, everything will be fine. The food is ready, warm, and prepped. The tree is marvelous. The musicians have arrived and are tuning their instruments. The house is clean, and you look positively radiant. I will take care of everything. Please, try to enjoy yourself," he finished as he walked into the ballroom.

As she took in a deep breath, she heard the sounds of many carriages pulling up to the house. She peered out of the window as she saw Jacques and Gaston helping the guests out of them and directing the coachman to the stables and parking areas. Cecilia had even arranged for food and mild entertainment for the coachman because she knew that the crème de la crème of society would be positively enchanted with someone who catered entirely to all of their needs. Cecilia was undoubtedly an intelligent business woman and quite the noble woman of society.

She called to Pierre informing him that the guests were arriving. She scurried into the ballroom to check on the musicians one last time and prepared herself for her guests. One by one the members of high society and those who were involved in the opera arrived each dressed impeccably. Cecilia curtsied and kissed the cheeks of every person who walked through her door.

As she was greeting Monsieur and Madame de la Rouge, the opera managers Andre and Firmin walked over to where she was standing.

"Madamoiselle Deveraux! May we say that your home is absolutely enchanting. We do hope that we will be able to discuss some matters with you before the night is out. Specifically, when you marriage is and when we should begin auditions," Andre said as he kissed her hand.

"Monsieurs. I implore you. I shall address you questions tonight, but until then, it is Christmas! Please indulge yourself in some foie gras and dance with a few of the many young and single ladies."

The Monsieurs looked at her gratefully and quickly left her presence to fulfill her requests. All the while, through her greetings and introductions, there was still no sign of Erik. She had wondered if he had last minute nerves which compelled him to seek refuge or even leave the manor completely. She happened to spy Navienne placing a new tray of éclairs on the serving table. She quickly went over to her housekeeper and inquired about Erik.

"No, Madamoiselle. I have not seen him since lunch today. Would you like me to search the house?" she replied to Cecilia with a worried look.

"No, that will not be necessary, Navienne. I am sure if he wanted to be here, he would be."

Cecilia walked off with a heavy heart as she noticed the Vicomte and Vicomtess walk into the ballroom. Cecilia, being the dutiful hostess she was, kindly strolled over to the happy couple.

"My dear Vicomte and Vicomtess. Thank you so much for coming!" she greeted Raoul and Christine.

Raoul had an extremely large package in his arms. Cecilia quickly signaled Pierre to fetch it from him and place it under the Christmas tree.

"Joyeux Noel, Cecilia," Raoul began with a smile, "you have met my wife, Christine."

Cecilia nodded as she embraced the two of them, placing kisses on each of their cheeks.

"It is so good to see you, my dear," Raoul said, "it has been so long since you have had one of these parties. I do hope it becomes an annual event like it was in the past. My sisters are on their way. They will be so happy to see you."

"How wonderful! I have not seen them in ages. I missed them at your wedding. I do hope they are doing well," Cecilia replied.

Cecilia noticed that Christine appeared to be quite jealous and uncomfortable. She did not know if it was because of the informalities in which Cecilia shared with Raoul or merely that Cecilia got along with his sisters so well. Cecilia believed it was the latter of the two.

"May I be first, Cecilia, to congratulate you with not only your upcoming marriage, but also your new opera house? Monsieurs Firmin and Andre informed me of your purchase just this morning. I trust that you will restore it to its former glory. You know how they say, "all you need is a woman's touch." Have you yet chosen a diva?" Raoul inquired.

"I have not as of yet. I have been focusing mainly on the restoration. However, the Monsieurs inform me that they wish me to begin the selection process of the entire staff," Cecilia replied.

"Well, then. I am sure that you are no stranger to the fact that my dear wife is quite the songstress herself. She informs me that she is quite anxious to begin singing again. Do you mind if I leave you two beautiful ladies to talk it over? I think I will ensure that Pierre has placed your present under your magnificent tree."

"Oh, Raoul. You needn't bother . . ." Christine said just before Cecilia interrupted her.

"No, Madame. It would be my pleasure. I find that I have much to speak with you about."

"It is settled. My dear wife, I shall see you momentarily," Raoul finished as he made his way across the room.

Christine and Cecilia were left standing at the entrance to the ballroom in silence.

"Well, Madame. Please do come with me," Cecilia began as she signaled for Pierre, "Pierre, please find me in the library should anyone need me or should anyone rather important arrive."

"Yes, Madamoiselle," Pierre said as he obeyed his mistress.

Cecilia gathered Christine's hand into her own and led her to the library. She did have many things that she needed to speak to Christine about, and she preferred to do it in private.


	25. Chapter 25: Truth and Lies

**DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two**

Erik watched from the back of the ballroom as Cecilia and Christine walked to the library. Erik, having been searching the house for other methods of spying, walked into the adjacent room where a small vent connected the two rooms. His eavesdropping days were not yet over.

"Please do sit down Madame," Cecilia said as she gestured to Christine to sit down.

"Please call me Christine," Christine replied, "Thank you for meeting with me. I am anxious to implore you to listen to an audition."

"Christine, I have heard you sing before. I needn't hear an audition."

"What?"

"I wish to talk to you about matters concerning Erik."

Christine looked down and remembered her wedding night. She had hoped that Cecilia would have forgotten the incident or that things had been mended between her and Erik. Needless to say, Christine realized that Cecilia was actually in love with Erik or else she wouldn't have met with her in this fashion.

"As you know, Erik and I are engaged. I am sure your husband or Suzanne has told you such."

"Yes, I am quite aware. In fact, Erik himself told me."

"I do not wish to hear about his past or the extent of your relationship. I deeply respect him, and if he wishes to tell me the truth, then he will tell me in due course. You needn't tell me what happened on your wedding night. The only thing I want to know is if you love him."

Erik almost gasped through the wall. He could not believe what he heard. He could not understand how Cecilia had been so trusting and so understanding. Moreover, he could not believe that she did not ask Christine about his past. She knew Christine could have told her everything about the murders, the rumors, and their relationship. Yet, she was classy enough to leave Erik his dignity whether or not he was present in the room.

Cecilia looked sternly into Christine's eyes. Christine noticed that Cecilia was obviously in love with Erik. However, Christine knew from speaking with her husband that Madamoiselle Deveraux was an incredibly smart woman. She knew that Cecilia did not hand her heart lightly like so many woman of her status did.

"Christine. Your answer has nothing to do with my hiring you to be my diva. I think you have incredible talent both singing and in the corps de ballet. I have watched you perform since you began at the Opera Populaire. I daresay I have become quite biased after the performance of _Don Juan Triumphant_."

Christine smiled at Cecilia with a sense of respect and admiration. Cecilia had been calm during their entire conversation thus far. Christine knew that Cecilia was not angry with her and Erik. In fact, Christine was impressed by how easily Cecilia held her broken heart.

Erik realized at that moment that Christine would never be like Cecilia. Cecilia was stable, mature, intelligent, and focused. She was classy and incredibly kind. Christine had always thought of only herself. She came to Erik in the first place because of her own pain, but Cecilia seemed to cater to others. Christine was emotional and unstable when it came to her music or even her feelings for men, when Cecilia was able to hold back her feelings in order to comfort those around her. She even treated Fredrick with dignity and respect after what he had done for her.

Erik knew that Cecilia spoiled him. Christine had never done that. The same Christine who yanked his mask off without question or remorse was the woman who sat across from the angelic Cecilia. Cecilia earned Erik's trust. She proved to him time and time again that he was more than just an apparition and a monster when Christine exposed him to more scrutiny and pain.

Erik knew Christine's answer. He knew that she did not love him. She looked at him as nothing more than a father figure, but then again, she was only seventeen. Even her precious Vicomte was no older than Cecilia who was almost considered past marrying age for her twenty two years.

"Madamoiselle Deveraux, I do not love Erik. Not in a way that should cause you any concern. I thought Erik was my guardian after my father had died. In fact, he has been like a father to me. I could never have given him anything more."

Cecilia looked at Christine as if she were going to break, but as stubborn as Cecilia was she would not give Christine the satisfaction.

Christine stood up and hugged Cecilia, while Cecilia, in a bit of shock, eventually relaxed and hugged the young woman back.

"I must return to my husband now," Christine began and she walked to the door, "thank you for everything. Please, call upon our household anytime. Raoul and I hope you enjoy the gift. Joyeux Noel, Cecilia."

"Joyeux Noel, Christine."

When Christine had left the room, Cecilia sat down for a moment. She had to regain her composure before she returned to the party. A few moments into her contemplation, she heard a soft knock at the door. After checking her face and hair in the mirror, she opened the maple door complete with elongated golden knob.

It was Erik. She gasped as she looked him up and down. His black suit was brand new and the obvisous work of Matthieu. His hair was perfectly psotitioned as usual, and he had a new mask on tonight.

"Can I speak with you a moment before you return to the party?" he asked with large weepy green eyes.

"Of course," she replied as she gestured him into the room, "what is it?"

"Cecilia, I am been a daft fool," Erik began as he noticed Cecilia's face soften, "I have taken you for granted. You have been such an angel to me. No one has ever let me into their home and heart as you have… I am not really good at expressing my emotions as I am sure you have noticed."

He paused for a moment and pulled out a handkerchief with something wrapped inside.

"There is so much I want to tell you. I am not saying this is going to be easy. In fact, I am pretty sure we are going to have to work at it everyday. I do not want to lie to you. I will always love Christine, but in all of this confusion and all of the suffering I have put you and myself through, I understand the truth."

"What do you mean, Erik?"

"I love you more. Forgive me for my complete immaturity in this. I have never had anyone love me. I do not know how to tell you the intensity of my feelings or even express to you that I know I have been foolish. I do not deserve you, but I am willing to make an effort everyday in order to win back your trust and love."

He began to unwrap the handkerchief revealing the ring he had bought to match her blue eyes. He held up her trembling hand and placed it on her finger.

"You do not have to answer me right now, or even tonight for that matter. Come, let's go and enjoy your party," he finished as he leaned down and kissed her cheek.


	26. Chapter 26: Noel

**DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two**

Cecilia awoke the following morning with the worst headache in the entire world. It was not like her nature to stay in bed at such a late hour, but she felt entirely weak and unable to get out of bed. She remembered what a happy night last night had been. The man she loved expressed his feelings, she finally was going to get her opera house, she already had a diva to sing in it, and the orchestra was perfect. She recalled drinking a small amount of wine and dancing the night away with Erik, the managers, and even one time on the dance floor with Raoul. She had often attended her parties and the parties of others regularly in her teenage years, but she never recalled having had such a good time.

The night had definitely been one to remember.

However, she was paying for it today. She left her head throb with every breath she breathed. She could not even muster up enough energy to turn onto her side. So, she lay there, in misery for a while until she heard a knock at her door.

"Cecilia? Are you in there? Is everything alright?" she heard Erik gently say behind the door.

"Erik, you can come in," she said weakly as she watched her door creak open letting a bit of light into her dark room.

"It is at least nine in the morning. Are you alright?"

"I am fine. I just have a horrible headache."

Erik walked over to her side and pulled up a chair by her bed. He placed his hand on her forehead and gently moved her hair out of her face.

"You look exhausted. Did you even sleep last night?"

"Not really. Did you?"

"I never sleep, but my body is adjusted. You, on the other hand, need to get some rest. I will go downstairs and get you something to eat. Then, my dear, will you please get some sleep?"

"Can I open my presents first?" she replied with a little bit of flirtation in her voice.

Erik had completely forgotten it was Christmas. He has never celebrated the holiday with anyone. He did not know what to do. His face saddened as she attempted to sit up and pull the sheets off of herself.

"What is wrong, Erik? Don't you like Christmas?"

"I don't know. I have never celebrated the holiday. I usually dread it. I would often see people holding hands down the snow clad streets singing carols or holding large presents. They made me feel even more alienated from the world as though I was not good enough to celebrate such a joyous holiday."

She pulled him toward her and kissed him firmly on the lips. A few seconds later, she ended the kiss and smiled at him.

"I am going to show you what you have been missing. Come and help me out of bed. I gave the servants the day off. Let's go open our presents," she said as she wrapped her arms around him.

He was surprised that there were presents under the tree for him. He went and lit a fire as she made warm morning tea for them. While she was in the kitchen, he snuck into his personal hiding spot in the closet and withdrew a small bag of herbs. He did not often resort to medicinal methods for curing a headache, but he was willing to look past that considering it was Christmas and the woman he loved.

She returned to the ballroom where Erik had laid out a large blanket on the floor by the tree. While she wasn't looking, he slipped a small dose of herbs into her tea. She collected three or four heavily wrapped boxes and drug them over to the blanket. Erik sat in front of her wondering what exactly proper Christmas-unwrapping etiquette was.

"Here, Erik. Open this one first. It says 'To: Cecilia and Erik With Love: Fredrick and Suzanne.' That was sweet of them to remember us on Christmas. I do hope they liked their vase."

Erik held the package in his hand and began to gently unravel the wrapping around it. As soon as he had exposed the box, he removed a pretty exquisite music box complete with swans and dancing ballerinas.

Erik suddenly became very excited at this whole thought of Christmas. He continued to open presents received from various guests the night before until there were only two boxes left. The one from Raoul and Christine sat in Cecilia's lap, and a small unmarked box in her hand.

"This is for you, Erik."

Erik collected the small box from her as she stared into his green eyes. He looked at it for a few moments until she spoke once again.

"Aren't you going to open it?"

Erik felt like he was going to cry. He did not want to be emotional on such a wonderful day. The last thing he wanted to do was break down and cry like a child because he had never felt like he belonged until now. He sighed as he once again gently unwrapped the box. His long graceful fingers wrapped around the gold chain that was nestled in a bed of velvet fabric. He lifted the beautiful trinket to his eyes and studies the marvelous pocket watch that hung at the end of the gold chain. Tears welled up in his eyes once more.

"I did not know what you get you. I noticed that you never have a pocket watch, so I thought a practical man such as yourself should at least have one. Do you like it?" she asked him as she fearfully waited for his answer.

He looked at her and smiled.

"It is beautiful. Thank you so much."

"You have to open it."

Erik looked at her with a puzzled face. She leaned over and clicked the top of the watch to open the round door adorned with an inlay of sterling silver.

His eyes widened as he read the fine print inside. The simple three word sentence made his heart skip a beat.

"Really?" he whispered as his eyes turned to hers.

"Yes," she replied with a smile creeping across her face.

His long slender fingers pulled her closer to him while his lips claimed hers. His arms wrapped around her body. She could feel his hands begin to explore her voluptuous assets. As their passionate kiss began to heighten with lustful intensity, she suddenly broke the kiss and looked into his eyes. He could see that her eyelids had begun to droop and within seconds she was fast asleep in his arms.

_Damn it! I always seem to drug her at the wrong times. _


	27. Chapter 27: Till Death Do Us Part

**DISCLAIMER: Please refer to Chapter Two**

I apologize it has taken me so long to update. I hope you all enjoy this last chapter.

She could hear him playing once again. She remembered how much she had missed hearing the adoring sounds of music littering her home.

The clock struck eight. She could hear Navienne downstairs ordering her grandson to help with the errands for the day and the clang of the dishes as she washed them. A faint slit of light made it through her think window drapes. She knew it was morning. She realized that she had slept an entire day almost.

She also came to the realization that today was the day. She would be married tonight. Two weeks had passed since she had confessed her love to Erik. So much had happened since Christmas. Erik was allowed to move back into the house; however, Cecilia distinctly informed him that he would not be allowed in her chamber until after they were married. Lucky to be wanted again, he agreed.

The opera was almost finished with its renovations. A new chandelier had been built, new seats installed, the stage had been completely redone, and a new opera had been commissioned. She had hired an orchestra, new ballerinas under the supervision of Madame Giry, a full technical staff, and an entire vocal department.

Cecilia had become the most talked about woman in all of France. Opening night was tonight. Erik and she had planned it as such. She wanted her happiness to overflow tonight.

She smiled as she heard Erik's music once more. Today would be a good day.

She descended her staircase into the kitchen.

"Madamoiselle! You should not be down here! Monsieur Erik cannot see you until tonight! It is tradition. Come, you are going back to your room this instant. We must begin your wedding preparations!" Navienne lectured as she led Cecilia back into her room and opened the door.

"Navienne…" Cecilia began.

"Madamoiselle, I shall return with some breakfast for you. I shall have Jacques heat up some water for your bath. Matthieu will be here any moment to make the finishing touches on your wedding dress."

Navienne closed the door with a stern look on her face. Cecilia knew she meant business, but she had no idea what to do all day. Luckily, the managers were overseeing the final rehearsals of the opera. All of Paris had been invited to opening night. Cecilia felt her pre-wedding nerves flutter in her belly.

She heard a soft knock on her door.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"It is Erik. Do not open the door. I do not want to break the tradition that Navienne has been so keen to remind me about all morning. I just wanted to tell you I am going to go out for a while, so you can come out in an hour or so. I will be taking Jacques with me, so when I return, you can be warned as to not see me."

"But… I…" she began once again.

"Do not fret, my love. I will meet you at the alter," he said with an obvious smile on his face.

She sighed. Tomorrow she would no longer be an unmarried woman. She would be a wife, and more importantly, tonight the opera house would be in her name. She grew very happy at her thought.

The carriage pulled up to the new Opera Populaire just as the sun began to set. All of the opera patrons and wedding guests were seated. The priest and his alter boys were at their places on the opera stage. The singers, dancers, and staff were seated on stage leading up to the alter. Everyone was in attendance. Navienne had ridden over with Cecilia. She was almost like a mother to her now.

"Just breathe, my dear. You are radiant," Navienne said with a smile as she handed the bouquet of blood red roses to Cecilia. As she walked to the doors of the opera house, the Vicompt opened the door.

"Cecilia, will you please allow me the honor of escorting you down the isle?" he asked with a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes.

He gathered her dainty gloved hand in his and peered at her silken white dress. With one last smile, he summoned for the conductor to begin the wedding march. Erik appeared on stage as the entire audiences' eyes were on her. She could not hide the happiness she felt in her soul.

Erik's hand received hers as tears welled up in his eyes. He was in awe of her. In that moment, nothing else mattered. What was in the past was left here. He was staring a new life with Cecilia. He knew he did not deserve her or her love, but he was willing to do whatever he had to. He would not ruin this blessing.

He could not see her eyes through her veil. He was filled with joy just at the thought of her deciding to go through with this marriage. The only thing he could do was stare at her and take in all of her. His eyes did not leave her. It was not until the priest nudged him that he became aware of the situation.

"Please turn and face each other. Erik Fournier, do you promise to take Cecilia Deveraux, as your lawfully wedded wife? To guide through the dark and to stand by her side in sickness and in health, through the happy and the troubled times, until death do you part?" he priest sang.

"I do," he whispered as he held her hand in his.

The moment he heard "I do" escape from her lips his emotions become almost unbearable.

"Monsieur, you may now kiss your bride," he priest said as Erik gently lifted Cecilia's veil.

Her stunning blue eyes were filled with tears as her husband leaned over to kiss her wet face.

"I love you, Cecilia."

"And I love you, Erik."

As the priest pronounced them man and wife, they were escorted to their special box for the opening of the opera.

And so it was, Erik and Cecilia Fournier sat hand in hand. Christine de Chagney's voice rang angelically through the opera house in sweet fervor.

All the while, Erik held Cecilia close in his arms. Tonight he would show her that she was all he would ever need.

Erik carried Cecilia through the doors of her chamber. He set his wife down on the bed and gently kissed her soft face.

"Cecilia, you know that we do not have to…" he began as he sat next to her on the bed.

"Erik, will you hush now," she replied as she put her hand on his face, "love me, Erik, that is all I ask of you."

She smiled and passionately kissed him.


End file.
